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FRANK  MERRIWELL'S  COURAGE 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S 
COURAGE 


BURT  L.  STANDISH, 

AUTHOR  OF 

"Frank  Merriwell's  Schooldays,"  "Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  West," 

"  Frank  Merriwell's  Chums,"  "  Frank  Merriwell's  Foes," 

"Frank  Merriwell  Down  South,"  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

DAVID  MCKAY,  PUBLISHER, 

604-3  SOUTH  WASHINGTON  SQUARE. 


Copyright,  190* 
By  STREET  &  SMITH 

Prank  Men-well's  Courage 


Look  at  this  !    Now— no 
"    (See  page  52) 


CONTENTS 


I— Tied  to  the  Track 7 

II — The  Tramp's  Story        ....  19 

III— Attacked  by  Ruffians          ....  35 

IV — The  Tramps'  Camp        ....  42 

V— Power  of  the  Spotted  Ball           ...  50 

VI — The  Runaway 60 

VII — The  Tramps  Appear  Again         ...  72 

VIII— A  Mystery  Solved 85 

IX— Frank's  Close  Call      .        .        .        .        .  96 

X — A  Thrilling  Adventure   .        .        .        .  m 

XI— An  Old  Foe 122 

XII — Taming  an  Elephant      ....  135 

XIII— The  Shell  Game 151 

XIV— Little  Lotta 165 

XV — Pearson  Finds  a  Master      .        .        .        .178 

XVI— Events  at  the  Circus       .        .        .        .  192 

XVII— Little  Lotta's  Last  Appearance    .        .        .  202 

XVIII— Tess 212 

XIX — An  Encounter  with  Cowboys    .        .        .  222 


ii  CONTENTS 


PAS: 


XX— A  Harvard  "Man"    ....  232 

XXI— A  Hard  Blow 241 

XXII— Grogan's  Revenge    .        .        .        .  251 
XXIII— Frank  and  the  Wild  Horse    .        .        .261 

XXIV— At  the  End  of  a  Rope        .        .        .  272 

XXV— Fickle  Fortune 293 

XXVI — The  Metamorphosis  of  Tess      .        .  303 
XXVII— The  Struggle  in  the  Stage      .        .        .314 

XXVIII— A  War  of  Words       ....  327 

XXIX— In  Buzzardsville 342 

XXX— Browning's  Move      ....  356 

XXXI— The  Landslide 37^ 

XXXII— Over  the  Precipice     .        .        .        .  3Sl 

XXXIII— The  Deadly  Mountains          .        .        .  389 

XXXIV— The  Fall  Down  the  Precipice     .        .  399 

XXXV— Out  of  the  Depths          .        .        .        •  4°7 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S  COURAGE 


CHAPTER  I. 

TIED  TO   THE  TRACK. 

"Listen,  boys!" 

"What  is  it,  Frank?" 

"I  thought  I  heard  a  cry.5' 

The  speakers  were  Frank  Merriwell,  one  of  the  most 
popular  youths  that  ever  graduated  at  Yale,  and  his 
chums,  Harry  Rattleton,  Jack  Diamond,  Bruce  Brown- 
ing, and  the  colored  boy,  Toots.  They  were  mounted 
on  bicycles  and  were  making  a  tour  across  the  conti- 
nent. The  night  had  fallen,  and  they  were  all  pedal- 
ing away  when  Frank's  warning  arrested  them  and 
they  slackened  their  speed  and  listened. 

From  far  away  came  the  wailing  shriek  of  a  loco- 
motive, brought  to  their  ears  by  the  favorable  wind. 

"That's  what  you  heard,  Frank;"  declared  Jack  Dia- 
mond. 


8  Tied  to  the  Track. 

"I  do  not  think  so,"  said  Frank  Merriwell.  "What 
I  seemed  to  hear  had  a  human  sound,  and  a  sound  of 
distress,  at  that." 

"Fo'  de  Lawd's  sakes!"  gurgled  Toots,  the  colored 
boy,  whose  eyes  seemed  almost  to  gleam  in  the  gloom. 
"Don'  yo'  pay  no  'tenshun  teh  anyfing  dat  yo'  heah 
hollerin'  in  de  dark.  If  yo'  does,  chilluns,  dere  ain't 
no  tellin'  what  will  cotch  yeh.  De  spookses  am  alwus 
kerhootin'  on  dis  kine  ob  a  night" 

"Oh,  say!"  exclaimed  Harry  Rattleton,  who  had  a 
strange  habit  of  mixing  his  words;  "you  sake  me 
mick — I  mean  you  make  me  sick,  Toots!  You  are 
always  thinking  of  'spookses.'  Some  time  you'll  be 
scared  to  death  by  your  own  shadow." 

Bruce  Browning,  who  was  following  along  behind, 
wearily  working  at  the  pedals  of  his  bicycle,  said  noth- 
ing. It  would  require  some  extra  exertion  for  him 
to  say  anything,  for  he  was  not  only  fat,  but  lazy, 
though  brimful  of  good-nature. 

"Gwan !"  cried  the  colored  boy.  "Don'  yo  frow  no 
swinuations  dis  way,  Mistah  Rattleton!  I  done  don' 
lek  it,  an'  I's  libul  teh  git  mighty  ma-ad.  When  I's 


Tied  to  the  Track.  9 

mad,  I's  ba-ad.  I  want  yeh  ter  know  I's  no  ordernary 
nigger,  but  I's  a  cullud  pussin  ob " 

"Be  still!" 

The  command  came  from  Frank,  and  it  was  plain 
he  was  listening  once  more. 

"I  know  I  heard  that  cry  again,"  he  declared.  "I 
was  not  deceived  this  time.  It  was There  it  is !" 

They  all  heard  it  plainly  enough.  Certainly  it 
seemed  like  a  human  cry  of  dire  distress — an  appeal 
for  help. 

"Golly  sakes  teh  goodness!"  panted  Toots.  "Dat's 
a  spook  suah's  yeh  libbin',  Marser  Frank!  I  knows 
de  soun'." 

"I  believe  the  cry  did  come  from  the  lips  of  a  human 
being !"  exclaimed  Diamond.  "But  I  could  not  tell 
the  direction " 

"Help!" 

"There's  no  mistake  this  time!"  cried  Frank,  as  they 
plainly  heard  the  faint  shout.  "It  comes  from  away 
off  this  way  somewhere!" 

He  waved  his  hand  to  the  right,  and  again  the  wail- 
ing whistle  of  the  approaching  locomotive  was  heard, 
more  distinct  than  before. 


io  Tied  to  the  Track. 

A  moment  later  the  young  bicyclists  came  to  a  rail- 
road crossing,  where  the  road  ran  through  a  small  cut 

Then  it  was  that,  for  the  fourth  time,  the  wind 
brought  that  appeal  to  Frank  Merriwell's  ears. 

Immediately  he  vaulted  from  his  bicycle,  which  he 
ran  out  beside  the  road,  depositing  it  upon  the  grass. 

Not  being  aware  of  his  intention,  the  other  boys 
passed  on,  and  dismounted  more  slowly.  By  the  time 
they  turned  about  Frank  had  left  his  wheel  on  the 
grass  and  was  bounding  away  up  the  railroad  track,  his 
feet  sounding  on  the  cross-ties. 

"Well,  bress  mah  soul!"  cried  the  darky.  "If  dat 
ain't  jes'  lek  dat  dar  chile,  I  dunno!" 

"Follow  him !"  cried  Jack.  "He  may  get  into  some 
sort  of  a  scrape !  We  must  be  on  hand  to  stand  with 
him." 

"That's  rust  jite — I  mean  it's  just  right!"  cried  Rat- 
tleton,  as  he  gave  his  bicycle  a  run  toward  the  ditch, 
and  let  it  go.  "Come  on,  fellers !" 

"Say,"  panted  Bruce  Browning,  from  a  distance, 
"what's  all  this  mean,  anyhow?  I'm  no  acrobat,  and 
it'd  take  a  circus  chap  to  imitate  Merry  in  his  move- 
ments." 


Tied  to  the  Track.  1 1 

Frank  rar  like  a  deer,  hearing  the  locomotive  whistle 
sound  yet  nearer  as  he  dashed  along. 

The  cries  became  plainer,  although  they  seemed 
strangely  weak,  as  if  the  person  uttering  them  were  in 
great  distress. 

Merriwell  realized  that  he  might  be  running  into 
danger,  but  the  thought  did  not  cause  him  to  hesitate 
a  moment.  He  held  himself  ready  for  anything  that 
might  happen. 

The  person  who  uttered  the  cries  was  much  farther 
from  the  highway  than  Frank  had  supposed  at  first, 
the  sound  being  brought  to  the  boy's  ears  by  the  aid 
of  the  wind. 

Into  some  dark  woods  the  running  boy  sped,  and 
he  knew  he  must  be  close  upon  the  unfortunate  who 
was  calling  for  aid. 

Frank  did  not  answer  the  cries,  having  a  fancy  that 
it  might  be  better  to  remain  silent. 

The  train  was  coming  nearer  and  nearer  along  the 
road,  as  he  could  tell  by  the  occasional  blasts  from  its 
•whistle. 

For  a  little  time  there  were  no  cries,  and  then,  almost 
beneath  the  boys'  feet,  the  appeal  went  forth  once  more. 


12  Tied  to  the  Track. 

"Help!  help!     Save  me!" 

Then  it  was  that  the  running  lad  came  to  a  sudden 
halt,  seeing  a  dark  object  that  was  stretched  across 
the  track. 

"Who's  there?"  he  asked,  approaching  with  greater 
caution.  "What  is  the  matter  with  you?" 

"Quick!"  panted  a  voice  that  was  husky  and  weak 
from  so  much  shouting.  "The  express  is  coming! 
Help  me!" 

"Why  don't  you  get  up?" 

"I  can't!     I  am  tied  to  the  track!" 

With  a  cry  of  horror,  the  boy  leaped  forward,  bend- 
ing over  the  prostrate  man.  The  shrill  whistle  of  the 
approaching  train  cut  the  air,  and  the  rails  began  to 
hum  under  the  sound  of  wheels. 

It  took  Merriwell  but  a  moment  to  ascertain  that 
the  man  told  the  truth — that  he  was  bound  to  the 
track  in  such  a  manner  that  the  wheels  of  the  train 
•would  cut  him  in  two  if  he  were  not  released. 

Far  down  the  track  a  "star  gleamed  redly,  growing 
larger  and  brighter  with  each  passing  moment.  Again 
the  whistle  of  the  locomotive  came  through  the  shud- 
dering air. 


Tied  to  the  Track.  13 

"For  the  love  of  mercy,  hurry!"  shrieked  the  man. 
"The  express  is  less  than  a  mile  away,  and  will  be  here 
inside  of  a  minute!  Don't  try  to  untie  the  knots! 
Take  a  knife  and  cut  the  rope !  It  is  the  only  way  for 
you  to  save  my  life!" 

Frank  thrust  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  but,  to  his 
dismay,  failed  to  find  any  knife  there.  With  the  ut- 
most speed,  he  searched  through  other  pockets,  but 
with  no  better  success. 

"I  have  no  knife!"  he  cried,  in  distress,  as  he  saw 
that  red  star  growing  larger  and  larger,  while 
it  threw  a  gleam  on  the  two  iron  rails  that  made  them 
seem  like  threads  of  polished  silver. 

"Do  something!"  screamed  the  unfortunate  wretch, 
as  he  writhed  and  twisted  in  agony.  "If  you  don't  do 
something  in  a  moment,  I  am  a  dead  man!" 

Frank  knew  that  well  enough.  The  headlight  of 
the  approaching  locomotive  seemed  like  the  glaring 
orb  of  some  Cyclopean  monster  that  was  hastening 
to  claim  its  human  prey.  The  rails  were  humming 
louder  and  louder  beneath  the  iron  wheels. 

Frank  tore  at  the  cords  with  his  fingers,  feeling  sick 
at  heart.  The  knots  were  drawn  tight,  and  he  realized 


14  Tied  to  the  Track. 

that  it  would  be  impossible  for  his  fingers  to  loosen 
them  in  the  few  seconds  that  remained  before  the  train 
would  go  roaring  over  the  spot. 

In  that  moment  the  boy  found  himself  wondering 
how  the  man  came  to  be  bound  to  the  track.  Enemies 
—deadly  enemies — must  have  tied  him  there. 

It  was  too  dark  there  in  the  cut  through  the  black 
woods  for  the  boy  to  see  the  man's  face,  but  something 
told  Frank  that  the  unfortunate  was  rough  and  un- 
kempt Perhaps  he  discovered  this  by  his  sense  of 
touch. 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  train,  like  the  jugger- 
naut of  destruction.  It  seemed  to  fascinate  Frank, 
who  remained  kneeling  by  the  helpless  man,  staring  at 
the  approaching  light,  and  fumbling  in  a  numb  sort 
of  way  with  the  knots. 

The  man  shrieked  again,  and  his  struggles  were 
frightful  in  their  intensity.  His  breast  rose  and  fell 
with  mighty  panting  breaths,  the  sound  of  which, 
whistling  through  his  teeth,  was  like  puffs  of  steam. 
Those  breaths  struck  upon  the  boy's  face  and  hands, 
seeming  to  scorch  him  like  blasts  from  a  furnace. 


Tied  to  the  Track.  15 

And  yet,  as  the  man  twisted  about,  his  flesh  touched  the 
hands  of  the  boy,  and  Frank  shuddered  as  if  he  had 
felt  a  corpse. 

The  situation  was  appalling  to  the  lad,  seeming  to 
rob  him  of  strength  and  will  power.  He  felt  as 
helpless  as  if  hypnotized  by  the  glaring  eye  of  fire  that 
gleamed  through  the  night. 

A  horrible  thought  came  to  him.  He  could  not 
arise,  he  could  not  escape  from  the  track !  He  would 
remain  there,  and  be  crushed  into  a  torn  and  shattered 
mass  of  flesh  and  bones !  He  was  doomed  to  die  with 
the  helpless  wretch  who  was  tied  to  the  track! 

It  actually  seemed  that  something  had  robbed  Frank 
Merriwell  of  his  power  to  move,  and  he  felt  like  one 
paralyzed.  Fear  was  racking  his  heart,  and  yet  he 
could  not  crawl  off  the  track  and  escape  death. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?"  screamed  the  man, 
"Do  something!  Are  you  dreaming?" 

"Yes,"  Frank  fancied  that  he  whispered,  although, 
in  truth,  no  sound  came  from  his  lips — "yes,  I  am 
dreaming — dreaming !" 

It  was  a  frightful  dream — a  dream  of  death!     It 


1 6  Tied  to  the  Track. 

was  a  thousand  times  more  horrible  than  the  worst 
nightmare  by  which  the  boy  had  ever  been  assailed. 

The  humming  rails  gave  forth  a  rhythmical  sound, 
which  the  boy  fancied  was  the  triumphant  song  of  the 
approaching  monster.  They  quivered,  as  if  they,  too, 
were  terrified  by  the  frightful  peril  of  two  human 
beings. 

And  now  the  woods  took  up  the  roar,  and  it  seemed 
that  the  dark  trees  were  grim  monsters  of  the  night, 
exulting  over  the  tragedy  they  were  certain  they  should 
witness.  Those  trees  held  out  their  crooked,  mis- 
shapen arms,  and  pointed  in  mockery  at  the  man  and 
the  boy  who  were  helpless  in  the  path  of  the  rushing 
iron  demon  with  a  soul  of  fire. 

"In  my  pocket!"  shrieked  the  man,  "I  believe  I 
have  a  knife  there!  Quick — quick!" 

"Eh?"  said  the  boy,  dully. 

Again  the  man  screamed  forth  trie  words. 

In  a  moment,  Frank  seemed  to  throw  off  the  spell 
that  had  fallen  on  him.  His  hand  sought  the  man's 
pocket — found  it 

"That's  the  one!"  cried  the  unknown. 


Tied  to  the  Track.  17 

Frank  found  the  knife — he  had  it  out  in  a  twin- 
kling. 

He  paid  no  further  attention  to  that  redly-glaring 
eye,  but  he  worked  with  swiftness.  The  knife  was 
opened  without  the  loss  of  a  second,  and  then  Frank 
slashed  at  the  cords. 

The  iron  monster  seemed  to  bound  forward  with 
added  speed,  as  if  determined  that  its  victims  should 
not  escape.  It  was  now  so  near  that  the  glare  of  its 
horrid  eye  fell  upon  them,  and  that  light  showed  the 
boy  how  to  work  without  making  any  false  moves. 

The  engineer  of  the  express  could  not  have  been 
attending  to  his  duty  just  then,  for  no  warning  whistle 
pealed  forth. 

It  did  not  seem  possible  for  the  boy  to  escape  from 
the  track  of  the  train  and  save  the  man  who  had  been 
bound  there.  Yet  he  did  not  abandon  that  man  to 
his  fate,  but  persisted  in  his  effort  to  effect  a  rescue. 

The  glare  of  the  headlight  showed  a  determined 
look  on  the  set  face  of  the  lad — showed  a  desperate 
purpose  gleaming  in  his  eyes. 

One  more  slash  of  the  knife,  which  was  none  too 
sharp,  and  the  man  was  free.  Then  the  boy  caught 


1 8  Tied  to  the  Track. 

the  helpless  stranger  by  the  shoulders  and  jerked  him 
from  the  track. 

Together  they  tumbled  down  the  low  embankment, 
rolled  over  and  over,  and  lay  panting  and  motionless 
beyond  reach  of  those  deadly  wheels  as  the  express 
thundered  past. 


CHAPTER  II 
THE  TRAMP'S  STORY. 

A  wild  scream  from  the  engine,  as  if  the  creature 
were  enraged  at  being  robbed  of  its  prey.  It  was  whis- 
tling for  the  next  crossing. 

Frank  sat  up  and  looked  after  the  express. 

"Well,"  he  coolly  observed,  "that  was  a  rather  close 
shave.  What  do  you  think  about  it,  stranger?" 

The  man  made  no  reply.  He  lay  panting  and  help- 
less on  the  ground,  seeming  as  yet  unable  to  realize 
that  he  was  saved. 

"Cheer  up,  my  friend,"  said  the  boy.  "A  miss  is 
as  good  as  a  mile;  but  it  is  certain  there  would  have 
been  no  miss  in  this  case  if  you  hadn't  told  me  where 
to  find  the  knife.  I've  lost  my  own  knife,  and  I  could 
not  start  the  knots." 

"Boy,"  panted  the  man,  "you  do  not  seem  to  realize 
what  you  have  done!" 

"Oh,  yes  I  do,"  was  the  cheerful  assurance.  "I 
realize  that  I  yanked  you  off  the  track  just  in  time  to 


2o  The  Tramp's  Story. 

save  you  from  being  chopped  into  mince-meat  by  that 
train." 

"You  saved  my  life!" 

"I  believe  you  are  right  about  that." 

"But  you  nearly  lost  your  own  in  the  attempt." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know." 

"I  do!  I  saw  your  face  by  the  light  of  the  engine 
headlight,  and  the  look  there  gave  me  hope,  for  there 
was  something  about  that  face  which  said  you  would 
not  be  frightened  into  deserting  me.  I  saw  a  resolve 
to  save  me,  or  perish  in  the  effort." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  propose  to  run  away  and  leave  you 
while  there  was  a  possible  show  for  me  to  get  you  off. 
After  I  got  hold  of  that  knife,  I  felt  sure  I'd  be  able 
to  clear  you  from  the  track." 

"It  was  a  remarkable  thing  for  a  boy  to  do." 

"It  rather  strikes  me  that  you  regard  it  as  too  much 
of  a  trick.  And  as  for  its  being  done  by  a  boy,  I 
have  found  that  some  boys  can  do  things  the  average 
man  would  not  dare  attempt." 

"Cut  my  hands  free,"  directed  the  man.  "They 
still  are  tied  behind  my  back." 

Frank  found  the  cord  and  severed  it  with  the  knife. 


The  Tramp's  Story.  21 

While  he  was  thus  employed,  he  heard  his  com- 
panions calling  his  name,  making  the  woods  ring  with 
their  shouts. 

Merriwell  answered,  and  a  moment  later  he  heard 
their  feet  on  the  cross-ties  and  their  voices  in  excited 
conversation  as  they  approached.  Then  they  loomed 
up  in  the  darkness  close  at  hand. 

"I  tells  yeh  de  sus-sus-spooks  hab  kerried  him  off 
fo'  suah!"  Toots  was  declaring.  "It  am  no  use  teh 
look  no  furder  fo'  him.  We'll  nebber  see  dat  boy  no 
mo'.  Poor  Marser  Frank !" 

"Oh  ut  shup — I  mean  shut  up!"  cried  Harry  Rat- 
tleton,  in  disgust.  "You  are  making  me  tired  with 
your  croaking  about  spooks!" 

"I  saw  him  near  here,"  declared  Jack  Diamond — 
"I  saw  him  as  plain  as  I  could  by  the  glare  of  the  head- 
light." 

"I  saw  him,  and  I  am  sure  that  I  saw  some  other 
person,"  said  Jack.  "You  don't  suppose  they  were 
run  down  by  the  train?" 

"No,"  asserted  Harry;  "I  seemed  to  see  them  get 
off  the  track  just  as  the  train  was  right  upon  them." 

"Dat  was  a  'lucynashun !"  asserted  Toots.     "Dat 


22  The  Tramp's  Story. 

suah  was  spookses  yo'  saw!  Dat  was  a  spook  what 
kerried  Marser  Frank  off!" 

Just  then  Frank  gave  a  most  dismal  groan,  and, 
with  a  wild  yell  of  terror,  Toots  clasped  both  arm? 
about  Harry's  neck,  and  held  on,  his  teeth  rattling  to- 
gether. 

"What  I  tole  yen?"  he  screamed.  "Didn't  I  done 
tole  yeh  so?  Dat  was  a  spook,  suah's  yeh  bawn,  chil- 
luns!  Don't  let  de  critter  tetch  me!  Good  Mistah 
Debbil,  don'  yeh  tetch  me — please  don'  yeh  tetch  me! 
I  nebber  wanted  teh  come  heah  an'  bodder  yeh  nohow ! 
It  was  all  de  doin's  ob  dese  foolish  white  boys.  Dey 
done  don'  know  no  bettah,  so,  if  yeh's  got  teh  take 
anybody,  Mistah  Debbil,  jes'  yo'  tek  dem  white  boys, 
and  let  poah  Toots  go !" 

"Let  go,  you  black  idiot!"  he  shouted.  "Are  you 
trying  to  strangle  me!  Get  off  my  back!  Why, 
you're  trying  to  shin  up  my  back  the  same  as  you  would 
climb  a  tree!" 

Then  Frank  burst  into  hearty  laughter,  but  the  sound 
echoed  weirdly  in  the  dark  woods,  the  very  trees  seem- 
ing to  fling  back  a  hundred  fiendish  mockeries  of  that 
laugh. 


The  Tramp's  Story.  23 

As  a  result,  all  the  strength  seemed  to  leave  Toots' 
arms,  and  he  fell  sprawling  to  the  railroad  track, 
where  he  lay,  alternately  praying  and  imploring  "good 
Mistah  Debbil"  not  to  carry  him  off. 

Both  Jack  and  Harry  had  been  startled  at  first  by 
that  burst  of  laughter,  but  they  quickly  recognized  it 
as  Merriwell's,  and  it  gave  them  great  relief. 

"That's  Merry,  and  he's  all  right,"  declared  Bruce 
Browning,  as  he  came  puffing  to  the  spot.  "What 
sort  of  a  trick  has  he  been  up  to,  anyway?  If  he 
has  been  playing  roots  on  us,  and  has  run  us  up  here 
as  a  joke,  I'll  lift  his  scalp!" 

"Just  you  try  that  little  trick,  Brownie,"  flung  back 
Frank.  "I  will  confess  that  you  did  fight  me  to  a 
draw  with  hard  gloves  once  on  a  time,  but  that  was 
before  you  acquired  such  a  vast  abundance  of  flesh. 
You  couldn't  repeat  the  trick,  my  boy." 

"If  I  whittle  the  flesh  off  during  the  rest  of  the  trip 
the  way  I  have  thus  far,  I'll  be  in  condition  to  give  you 
a  jolly  good  try  by  the  time  we  reach  San  Fran- 
cisco," retorted  the  big  collegian,  with  a  hearty  laugh. 

Frank  arose  to  his  feet,  and  assisted  the  rescued  man 


24  The  Tramp's  Story. 

to  arise.  The  man  got  upon  his  feet  with  some  diffi- 
culty, as  if  his  joints  were  rather  stiff. 

"Who  is  this  with  you,  old  fellow?"  asked  Jack, 
as  he  hastened  to  Frank's  side.  "I  thought  I  saw  two 
figures  by  the  glare  of  the  locomotive  headlight." 

"It  is  a  man  I  found  tied  to  the  track,"  Merriwell 
explained. 

The  boys  uttered  exclamations  of  horror  and  aston- 
ishment 

"Tied  to  the  track?"  burst  from  Jack's  lips.  "Who 
tied  him  there?" 

"That  is  what  I  have  not  had  time  to  find  out  yet. 
I  presume  he  will  explain  later  on." 

"Why,  that  was  an  attempt  at  murder !"  cried  Harry, 
excitedly. 

"That's  jest  what  it  was,  young  gents,"  said  the 
stranger,  in  a  whining  tone,  which  seemed  a  great 
change  from  his  manner  of  speaking  when  he  ad- 
dressed Frank  as  the  boy  was  trying  to  clear  him 
from  the  track.  "An*  why  them  coves  should  do  such 
a  t'ing  is  what  I  don't  understanV 

Frank  instantly  noted  the  change  in  the  man's  voice 
and  language. 


The  Tramp's  Story.  25 

"Whom  do  you  mean?"  he  asked.  "Who  tied  you 
to  the  track?" 

"Two  gents  by  ther  names  o'  Joyce  an'  Jones,  sir." 

"Then  you  know  their  names?  That  is  good! 
Where  do  they  live?" 

"Well,  young  feller,  they  are  travelers." 

"Travelers?     How  is  that?" 

"That  is  on  ther  level.  They  don't  have  no  reg'lar 
home  nowhere,  but  they  jest  travel  'round  ther  coun- 
try." 

"How  do  they  travel?" 

"Oh,  'most  any  way  that  comes  handy.  Sometimes 
afoot,  sometimes  by  rail,  an'  sometimes  by  water." 

"Then  you  must  mean  that  they  are  tramps." 

"Some  folks  call  'em  that,"  confessed  the  man. 
"Some  folks  says  they're  hobos.  You  kin  take  yer 
choice  of  names." 

"And  are  you  a  tramp?" 

"I  am  a  pedestrian  o'  pleasure,  gents.  To  be  free 
wid  yer,  I  don't  much  like  ther  name  o'  tramp  or  hobo, 
I  started  out  ter  see  ther  world  some  years  ago,  an*  I've 
been  lookin'  it  over  ever  sence.  That's  all,  gents." 


26  The  Tramp's  Story. 

"And  is  this  the  man  you  found  tied  to  the  track  ?" 
cried  Harry  Rattleton,  in  astonishment. 

"Were  these  men  Joyce  and  Jones  comrades  of 
yours?"  asked  Frank. 

"Well,  they  are  travelers,  like  meself.  I  happened 
ter  fall  in  wid  'em,  an'  then  was  travelin'  westward, 
so  we  sailed  along  togedder.  Joyce  was  a  right  jolly 
duck,  what  could  tell  stories,  and  Jones  he  could  sing. 
They  had  a  great  way  o'  jollyin'  ther  ladies  for  a  back- 
door feed,  an'  that  made  me  warm  ter  'em,  gents." 

"Did  you  have  a  falling  out  with  them  ?" 

"Not  exactly,"  was  the  whimsical  reply.  "You 
see  we  was  all  kicked  out  back  here  about  five  mile 
at  a  water  tank." 

"Kicked  out  of  what?" 

"A  box  car,  gents.  As  we  didn't  feel  able  ter  travel 
in  a  Pullman  sleeper,  we  was  satisfied  ter  git  inter  an 
empty  box  on  a  freight,  an'  sail  erlong  that  way. 
But  ther  brakemen  tumbled  ter  our  little  game  an' 
they  come  in  on  us.  They  stood  us  up  an'  went  t'rough 
our  pockets,  but  they  didn't  git  only  'leven  cents  in 
change  an'  a  old  jackknife.  That  r'iled  them,  s<F 
they  shot  ther  three  o'  us  off  ther  car  at  ther  first  stop 


The  Tramp's  Story.  27 

Then  we  took  ter  hoofin'  it  along  ter  ther  nex'  town. 
I  never  t'ought  there  was  anyt'ing  in  ther  wind,  an'  I 
didn't  suspect  my  companions  o'  any  crooked  game; 
but,  jest  as  we  was  passin'  t'rough  these  woods,  gents, 
Joyce  and  Jones  jumped  on  me.  They  had  me  onter 
me  back  in  a  wink,  an'  they  tied  me  up  afore  I  could 
make  a  squeal.  It  seemed  like  they  was  all  ready  for 
ther  job,  as  they  had  ther  t'ings  ter  do  it  wid. 

"'Gents,'  says  I,  in  surprise,  'w'at's  der  racket?  I 
don't  seem  ter  understand  this  game.  What  have  I 
done  that  yer  jumps  onter  me  this  way  an'  ties  me  han's 
behind  me  back?  If  it's  me  wealth  ye're  arter,  pals/ 
I  continners,  somewhat  sourcastically,  'ye're  welcome 
ter  all  der  trainmen  left  me.  In  case  that  don't  satisfy 
ye,  I  give  ye  a  check  on  me  own  sand  bank/ 

"But  this  sourcasm  o'  mine  don't  seem  ter  have  any 
effect  on  them  ducks.  They  don't  pay  no  'tenshun 
ter  me,  but  next  I  heard  them  kinder  talkin'  over  how 
they  was  ter  finish  me  off.  Jones,  w'at  could  sing 
such  beautiful  songs,  he  was  fer  knockin'  me  on  der 
coco,  an'  nnishin'  me  off  widout  delay ;  but  Joyce,  w'at 
tole  ther  funny  stories,  he  didn't  seem  ter  like  ther  idee 
o'  doin'  ther  job  that  way.  Then  they  figgered  out 


28  The  Tramp's  Story. 

that  it  was  time  fer  ther  express  ter  come  erlong,  an5 
they  decided  ter  tie  me  ter  ther  track,  an'  let  ther  train 
do  ther  rest 

"Gents,"  said  the  self-confessed  tramp,  soberly,  "I 
done  my  best  ter  reason  wid  dem  duffers,  but  ther 
more  I  talks  ther  less  good  it  does.  Then  I  opens  my 
face  an'  whoops  a  little,  upon  which  they  stops  me 
mouth  wid  a  gag.  Then  they  ties  me  ter  ther  track, 
bids  me  farewell,  and  leaves  me  here." 

The  tramp  paused  in  his  narrative  to  wipe  the  cold 
perspiration  from  his  face  with  his  coat  sleeve.  Then 
he  told  how  he  tried  to  break  his  bonds,  although  he 
was  thinking  all  the  while  that  it  must  be  a,  joke  of 
his  late  companions.  Finally  he  succeeded  in  getting 
the  gag  out  of  his  mouth,  and  then  he  called  for  Joyce 
and  Jones  to  come  back  and  set  him  free. 

In  answer  to  his  appeal  the  dark  woods  flung  back 
dismal  echoes,  and  an  owl  hooted  derisively. 

Then  he  began  to  think  it  possible  there  was  no  joke 
about  it,  and  he  had  been  abandoned  to  his  doom. 
The  thought  made  him  frantic,  for  he  knew  the  night 
express  was  nearly  due,  and  he  fell  to  shouting  for 
help.  He  shouted  till  he  was  hoarse,  but  it  seemed 


The  Tramp's  Story.  29 

that  his  appeal  had  not  reached  human  ears.  The 
distant  whistle  of  the  express  filled  his  soul  with  un- 
utterable terror,  and  he  shrieked  again  and  again. 

After  a  time,  he  heard  some  one  running  toward 
him  on  the  track.  He  continued  to  call,  and  Frank 
found  him  tied  to  the  track.  Then  followed  the  thrill- 
ing rescue,  which  has  been  described. 

"Young  gent,"  said  the  tramp,  in  conclusion,  ad- 
dressing Frank,  "if  you  hadn't  come  jest  when  yer 
did,  them  chaps  would  'a  done  for  me.  You  saved 
me  life,  an'  I  don't  fergit  that  kind  o'  a  turn." 

"That  is  all  right,"  said  Merry,  lightly. 

"I  ain't  able  ter  pay  yer  money,"  said  the  man, 
slowly,  "though  I  would  be  if  I  had  what's  me  own 
by  right." 

"I  don't  want  pay  of  any  sort." 

"How  did  yer  happen  ter  come  erlong  where  ye 
could  hear  me  holler?" 

Frank  explained  that,  with  his  companions,  he  was 
making  a  bicycle  trip  from  New  York  to  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  they  were  riding  late  that  day  to  make  up 
for  lost  time.  Thus  it  came  about  that  they  were 
pedaling  along  the  highway  near  enough  to  hear  the 


30  The  Tramp's  Story. 

appeals  for  help  which  came  from  the  lips  of  the  help- 
less tramp. 

"Well,"  said  the  man,  slowly,  "I  has  seen  ther  time 
w'en  I  said  there  warn't  any  God — there  couldn't  be 
a  God ;  but  it  kinder  seem  ter-night  as  if  He  might  'a' 
hed  somethin'  ter  do  wid  yer  bein'  near  enough  ter 
hear  me  holler.  My  name's  Baldy  Briggs.  Wat's 
yourn  ?" 

Frank  gave  his  name,  and  Briggs  continued: 

"You  ain't  no  odernary  duck;  you  has  sand,  Mr. 
Merriwell.  Any  odder  young  fell  wo'd  got  scat  an' 
let  me  gone  w'en  der  train  was  right  onter  us.  You 
didn't.  I  ain't  goin'  ter  fergit  that  no  more'n  I'm 
goin'  ter  fergit  ther  blokes  w'at  tied  me  ter  ther  track. 
Some  time  I'm  goin'  ter  know  why  they  done  that,  an* 
I'm  goin'  ter  have  a  settlement  wid  'em." 

"I  don't  blame  you!"  exclaimed  Merriwell.  "I 
fancy  I  should  feel  like  settling  with  the  whelps." 

"Oh,  Messrs.  Joyce  an'  Jones  will  hear  o'  Baldy 
Briggs  ag'in,  an'  that  may  be  sooner  than  they  expec'. 
I'll  make  them  mugs  sorry  they  ever  tried  any  such 
game  onter  me,  you  bet  yer!  That  ain't  w'at  I  was 


The  Tramp's  Story.  31 

comin'  at.  As  I  said,  I  ain't  got  money,  an'  so  I 
can't  pay  yer,  but " 

"Let  it  drop.  You  are  thankful,  and  that  is  enough 
to  satisfy  me,  Mr.  Briggs." 

"Mr.  Briggs!"  gasped  the  tramp.  "Well,  that's 
ther  first  time  I've  bin  called  that  in  so  long  I've  fer- 
got  ther  time!  Mr.  Briggs!  Don't  do  it  ag'in,  pal, 
fer  I  don't  know  who  ye're  speakin'  ter! 

"If  I  ain't  got  money,  I  may  be  able  ter  give  yer  a 
lift  some  time.  Ther  country  is  full  o'  hobos.  Take 
this  token.  It  might  help  yer  wid  der  gang  if  yer  gits 
inter  trouble." 

He  thrust  a  small  round  ball  into  the  lad's  hand, 
quickly  adding: 

"Keep  it,  pal;  don't  t'row  it  ervvay,  fer  yer  don't 
know  w'en  it'll  come  handy.  If  yer  should  be  held 
up  by  hobos,  all  yer  got  ter  do  is  ter  show  that,  an* 
they'll  let  yer  go  widout  furder  trouble." 

"Well,  I  am  sure  I  am  much  obliged,"  said  Merri- 
well,  quietly.  "I  will  keep  it  as  a  memento  of  this  oc- 
casion, at  least." 

"That's  right,"  said  Briggs,  "an*  keep  it  wid  yer 
w'en  yer  travels.  Now,  young  gents,  I  won't  bodder 


32  The  Tramp's  Story. 

yer  longer.  You  has  bi  suckles,  an'  I  has  me  feet. 
You'll  travel  by  der  road,  an'  I'll  hoof  it  along  ther 
ties.  Good-by." 

He  grasped  Frank's  hand,  gave  it  a  warm  pressure, 
and  then,  without  further  words,  turned  and  hurried 
away  along  the  railroad,  soon  disappearing  in  the  dark- 
ness. 


CHAPTER  III. 

ATTACKED   BY   RUFFIANS. 

Two  days  later  Frank  Merriwell  was  scorching 
along  a  particularly  fine  piece  of  road  in  Southern  Illi- 
nois. He  was  far  in  advance  of  his  companions, 
who  had  not  chosen  to  attempt  to  follow  him  when 
he  made  the  burst  of  speed. 

It  was  a  fine  morning,  and  the  sun  was  shining 
brightly.  The  country  through  which  the  boys  were 
passing  was  beautiful  and  attractive  in  many  ways. 

Sometimes  there  were  hills,  or  swells,  and  there 
were  picturesque  groves,  with  houses  set  in  the  shel- 
ter of  the  trees,  while  fields  of  corn  and  grain  could 
be  seen  in  every  direction. 

Some  of  these  cornfields  were  marvels  to  the  boys, 
for  the  corn  stretched  away  in  a  vast  green  forest  to 
the  crest  of  some  distant  swell,  making  it  seem  that  corn 
grew  like  grass  there. 

But  a  close  examination  showed  the  evidences  of 


34  Attacked  by  Ruffians. 

careful  cultivation,  and  the  rows  stretched  away  as 
straight  as  such  long1  lines  could  be  drawn. 

Men  were  at  work  in  the  fields,  and,  occasionally, 
women  were  seen  working  side  by  side  with  the  men. 
They  usually  paused  to  stare  at  the  boys  who  flashed 
past  on  their  shining  wheels. 

"Surely  this  is  a  fine  farming  country,"  thought 
Frank;  "and  the  roads  are  made  for  cycling — when 
they  are  not  wet.  A  fellow's  wheel  seems  almost  to 
run  alone  here." 

The  fresh  air  was  like  wine  in  his  head,  and  it 
seemed  quite  impossible  for  him  to  use  the  energy  at 
the  pedals  which  he  desired  to  put  forth. 

He  looked  back  and  laughed,  for,  far  away,  just 
coming  over  the  crest  of  a  swell,  were  his  friends,  the 
nickel  work  on  their  wheels  glittering  in  the  sunshine. 

"It  is  sport  to  run  away  from  them,"  cried  Frank. 
"Jack  or  Harry  might  give  me  a  hot  race,  but  they 
are  not  inclined  to  try  it.  Jack  says  it  uses  up  his  en- 
ergy to  spurt  in  such  a  manner,  and  he  generally  needs 
it  all  before  the  day's  run  is  over.  Well,  I  have  to 
work  off  a  certain  amount  of  superfluous  energy  in 
order  to  settle  down  to  a  steady  jog  for  the  day." 


Attacked  by  Ruffians.  35 

He  was  overflowing  with  animal  spirits,  was  in 
the  best  of  health  and  the  pink  of  condition.  That  was 
why  he  felt  so  strong  and  buoyant,  and  it  was  why 
everything  his  eyes  saw  about  him  looked  good  and 
beautiful. 

"It  is  a  grand  old  world!"  he  laughed,  as  he  sped 
along.  "The  fellow  who  kicks  about  this  world  is  a 
chump.  He  should  be  kicked  off  of  it." 

Ahead  lay  a  small  grove,  through  which  the  road 
iran.  As  he  entered  the  grove,  he  saw  two  rough- 
looking  men  standing  in  the  road  ahead.  They  were 
watching  him  approach,  and  seemed  to  be  waiting  for 
•him. 

"I  don't  like  the  looks  of  those  fellows/'  thought  the 
boy.  "They  seem  like  tramps,  and  one  of  them  has  a 
short  club  in  his  hand.  I'll  keep  up  steam  till  I  pass 
them." 

As  he  approached,  one  of  the  men,  a  fellow  with  a 
short  red  beard,  stepped  into  the  middle  of  the  road 
and  held  up  his  hand. 

"Hold  on,  young  fellow,"  he  cried.  "We  wants  ter 
talk  ter  ye." 


36  Attacked  by  Ruffians. 

Frank  bent  yet  a  little  farther  over  the  handlebars, 
and  sent  the  wheel  flying  along. 

"Get  out  of  the  way!"  he  shouted.  "I  can't  stop 
to  talk." 

"Hold  on,  I  tell  ye!"  snarled  the  red-bearded  man. 
"If  ye  don't Bern  yer  pelt!" 

He  leaped  aside  with  awkward  nimbleness,  for  he 
saw  that  the  boy  had  no  thought  of  stopping,  and 
barely  was  he  in  time  to  avoid  being  run  down. 

With  a  cry  of  rage,  the  man  lifted  the  heavy  cudgel 
in  his  hand  and  sent  it  flying  after  the  boy. 

It  struck  Frank  between  the  shoulders  and  sent  him 
pitching  forward  from  the  bicycle  to  the  ground. 

"Hang  ye!"  howled  the  big  man,  as  he  leaped  for- 
ward. "Try  ter  run  me  down,  will  yer!" 

He  pounced  upon  the  boy  like  a  beast  of  prey,  pin- 
ning Frank  to  the  ground.  His  yellow  teeth  showed 
through  his  coarse  mustache,  and  there  was  an  ugly 
glare  in  his  eyes. 

The  other  man  came  running  up,  laughing  as  if  it 
were  a  great  joke. 

"Well,  yer  done  that  slick,  Pink,"  he  cried,  in  a 


Attacked  by  Ruffians.  37 

complimentary  manner.  "They  don't  run  away  from 
you  none  when  ye  tells  'em  ter  stop." 

"Not  much,"  grated  the  big  man.  "When  they  tries 
ter  monkey  with  me,  they  gits  hurt — that's  w'at !" 

"Well,  I  don't  t'ink  yer  needs  ter  hold  that  kid 
down,  fer  ther  fall  clean  knocked  ther  wind  outer 
him." 

"Eh?  Guess  ye're  right,  Bob.  He  ain't  cuttin'  up 
none  to  make  us  nervous.  Hope  I  didn't  break  his 
back  wid  ther  club." 

"And  I  hope  he  didn't  break  his  neck  w'en  he  fell." 

"That  wouldn't  be  so  bad,  for  we  could  leave  him 
here,  an'  it  would  seem  that  he'd  got  a  dump  off  his 
wheel,  an'  that  hed  fixed  him." 

"But,  jest  as  hard,  I  don't  keer  ter  be  in  no  more  kill- 
in's.  That  job  w'at  we  did  ther  odder  night  was 
enough  fer  me." 

"Ye're  soft,  Bob,  that's  what's  ther  matter  wid  yer. 
We  got  a  good  bit  o'  stuff  fer  doin'  that  job." 

"We  ain't  got  all  o'  it  yit." 

"But  we  will  w'en  we  gits  ter  der  fine  gent  w'at 
hired  us,  an'  that  won't  be  ther  end  o'  it.  We'll  con- 
tinner  ter  pull  his  leg  at  intervals  jest  as  long  as  we 


38  Attacked  by  Ruffians. 

wants  ter.  He  won't  darst  ter  refuse  ter  cough  w'en 
we  says  cough.  In  der  meantime,  however,  we  has 
ter  hustle  for  ourselves,  an'  I'm  tired  o'  bein'  kicked  of? 
railroad  trains.  W'en  I  sees  dis  young  gent  on  dis 
bisuckle,  I  kinder  made  up  my  mind  that  ridin'  a  wheel 
was  better'n  walkin',  an'  so  I  decides  ter  borrer  his 
bisuckle.  That's  why  I  took  ther  trouble  ter  stop 
ther  cove." 

At  this  moment,  from  far  away,  came  the  sound  of 
a  clear  voice  singing  some  sort  of  bicycle  song. 

The  two  ruffians  looked  at  each  other  in  alarm,  and 
then  the  big  man  cried: 

"Gimme  a  han'  here,  Bob!  Some  fool  is  comin'! 
We've  gotter  git  dis  feller  inter  der  bresh!  Lively 
now !" 

They  caught  up  the  boy,  and,  with  Frank  in  his 
arms,  the  big  fellow  ran  in  a  lumbering  manner  into 
the  bushes.  The  other  man  lifted  the  bicycle,  and 
hurried  after  his  companion. 

Barely  had  they  disappeared  into  the  thick  bushes 
when  Jack  Diamond  came  spinning  along  the  road. 

The  men  had  dropped  Frank  to  the  ground,  and 
the  big  ruffian  was  crouching  astride  the  lad's  body, 


Attacked  by  Ruffians.  39 

peering  through  the  bushes.  The  other  fellow  hid 
himself  behind  the  butt  of  a  tree. 

Merriwell  was  dimly  conscious  of  what  was  taking 
place.  He  knew  that  his  friends  were  passing,  and 
he  sought  to  lift  himself  and  call  to  them. 

Instantly  the  heavy  hands  of  the  big  man  closed  on 
the  neck  of  the  unfortunate  lad,  and  Frank  was  pressed 
back  to  the  ground,  while  a  hoarse  voice  hissed  in  his 
ear: 

"Don't  yer  try  ter  cheep,  young  feller !  It  won't  be 
good  fer  yer  if  ye  do!  Keep  yer  face  closed!" 

The  pressure  on  Frank's  throat  would  have  pre- 
vented his  making  an  outcry,  had  he  desired,  and  it  is 
doubtful  if  he  could  have  made  his  friends  hear  him 
had  those  hands  been  removed. 

One  by  one  the  boys  rode  past  till  all  four  had  gone 
speeding  through  the  woods,  and  the  two  ruffians  drew 
a  deep  breath  of  relief. 

"Well,  we  was  dead  lucky  ter  hear  them  afore  they 
was  right  onter  us,  pal,"  said  the  big  man. 

"I  dunno,"  chuckled  the  other.  "Them  was 
mighty  fine  bisuckles  w'at  the  youngsters  was  ridin* 
of." 


4O  Attacked  by  Ruffians. 

"Yep;  but  there  was  too  many  of  the  kids." 

"All  ther  same  dey  was  kids,  an'  ther  two  o'  us 
could  scared  ther  life  outer  'em." 

"In  your  mind,"  came  faintly  from  Frank  Merri- 
well. 

"Wat?"  shouted  the  big  man.  "Why,  this  young 
gent  is  gittin'  real  chipper.  If  he  gits  too  spry,  I'll 
jes'  t'ump  him  on  ther  head  wid  somet'ing  hard,  an* 
dat  will  fix  him." 

The  boy  heard  these  words,  and  understood.  He 
had  been  robbed  of  his  strength  by  the  shock  of  the 
fall,  and  he  realized  that  he  could  not  fight  against 
such  odds,  which  led  him  to  simulate  a  state  of  utter 
helplessness. 

All  the  while,  however,  Frank  was  taking  in  every 
word  uttered  by  his  captors,  and  he  was  studying  their 
appearance  through  his  half-closed  eyelids. 

"I'll  know  them  when  I  meet  them  again,"  he 
thought. 

The  men  went  through  Frank's  pockets  and  took 
all  the  money  and  valuables  they  could  find;  but  there 
were  two  secret  pockets  under  the  lad's  arms  which 
they  did  not  discover.  Had  they  found  these  pockets, 


Attacked  by  Ruffians.  41 

Frank  might  have  attempted  to  make  a  fight  for  it,  for 
each  pocket  carried  a  certain  number  of  bank  notes  of 
large  denomination. 

"I  rudder  t'ink  yer  have  hurt  der  young  gent  pritty 
hard,  Pink,"  said  Bob.  "He  don't  seem  ter  have  much 
life  in  him." 

"He'll  come  roun*  all  right  w'en  we're  gone,"  de- 
clared the  big  man.  "I  fought  he  was  goin'  ter  be 
all  right  too  quick,  so  I'd  hev  ter  give  him  anodder 
t'ump,  an'  it  was  a  good  t'ing  he  hed  sense  enough  ter 
keep  still  till  we  was  t'rough  wid  him." 

Then,  having  relieved  the  boy  of  all  his  money  and 
valuables,  as  they  supposed,  the  tramps — for  tramps 
they  were — arose,  took  the  bicycle  between  them,  and 
departed  through  the  woods,  leaving  Frank  wherq 
they  had  dropped  him. 


CHAPTER  IV. 
THE   TRAMP'S    CAMP. 

The  boy  lifted  his  head  and  watched  the  ruffians  de- 
part with  his  wheel. 

"Well,  this  is  a  jolly  go!"  he  muttered,  ruefully. 
"The  fall  from  that  bicycle  knocked  the  breath  and 
strength  out  of  me.  This  is  the  result.  But  don't 
think  for  a  moment  that  I  propose  to  lose  my  wheel 
in  such  a  manner." 

As  soon  as  the  men  were  far  enough  away,  he  arose 
to  his  feet,  although  it  cost  him  an  effort,  and  began 
to  follow  them,  exercising  the  greatest  caution. 

Frank  had  studied  the  ways  of  Western  hunters 
and  Indian  trailers,  and  had  acquired  in  an  astonish- 
ing manner  the  ability  to  slip  silently  through  a  piece 
of  timber,  taking  advantage  of  every  available  cover 
to  protect  him  from  the  eyes  of  his  enemies,  in  case 
they  should  turn  and  look  back. 

"I  wonder  where  those  fine  fellows  are  taking  my 
wheel?"  he  speculated,  as  he  crept  along.  "They  are 


The  Tramp's  Camp.  43 

striking  directly  away  from  the  road.  Well,  I'll  have 
to  find  out." 

Beyond  the  wood  was  a  strip  of  corn,  and  through 
this  the  men  made  their  way  to  another  piece  of  tim- 
ber. 

Frank  followed  as  closely  as  possible. 

For  no  more  than  a  few  seconds  at  a  time  were  the 
men  out  of  the  boy's  sight.  At  last,  he  saw  them  ap- 
proach a  spot  where  a  small  fire  smoldered  in  the  cen- 
ter of  a  thick  grove. 

Seated  and  lying  about  the  fire  were  several  men, 
and  their  ragged  clothes,  unkempt  beards  and  general 
air  of  disregard  as  to  their  personal  appearance  pro- 
claimed them  to  be  tramps. 

As  the  two  ruffians  approached  they  whistled  in  a 
peculiar  manner.  This  whistle  was  answered  by  one 
of  the  men  near  the  fire. 

As  Bob  and  Pink  came  up,  bearing  the  bicycle  be- 
tween them,  some  of  the  tramps  who  were  not  asleep 
stared  at  the  wheel  with  curiosity,  and  one  fellow 
stopped  gnawing  at  a  chicken  bone  long  enough  to  ask : 

"Where  did  ye  purchase  that  article,  pals?" 

"Oh,  we  traded  wid  a  gent  w'at  was  out  takin'  his 


44  The  Tramp's  Camp. 

mornin'  constertooshernal  on  it,"  grinned  Bob.  "He 
didn't  seem  to  care  for  it  much,  an'  we  got  it  at  a  bar- 
gain." 

A  man  who  was  smoking  a  black  pipe  removed  the 
stem  from  his  mouth  long  enough  to  observe : 

"It's  plain  ye've  got  stuck  with  an  inferior  grade  of 
wheel.  That  make  is  no  good.  You'd  better  ketch 
ther  feller,  an'  see  if  he  won't  take  it  back." 

"What  d'yer  want  of  it  anyhow?"  asked  a  third 
man,  who  was  stretched  on  his  back,  with  his  head 
resting  on  a  small  log,  which  served  as  a  pillow.  "It 
won't  go  without  pushin',  an'  that's  too  much  work." 

"It's  better  than  walkin',"  said  Bob,  good-naturedly. 

"Walkin'!"  contemptuously  cried  the  man  with  his 
head  on  the  log.  "Who  walks?  When  I  go  any 
distance,  I  have  me  special  car,  as  you  all  know.  For 
shorter  trips,  why,  I  call  ther  coachman  and  have  me 
rig  brought  round.  What  is  walkin',  anyhow?" 

"Well,  if  ther  thing  runs  too  hard,  why,  we  kin  sell 
it,"  said  Pink. 

"In  yer  mind!"  derisively  cried  the  man  with  the 
pipe.  "Who'd  pay  yer  anyt'ing  fer  it?  If  you  was 


The  Tramp's  Camp.  45 

co  offer  it  for  sale,  ye'd  be  nabbed  by  an  officer,  an' 
locked  up  fer  stealin'." 

"Well,  then/'  laughed  Bob,  "we'll  t'row  it  in  der 
river  w'en  we  gits  tired  o'  ther  blooming  t'ing." 

"Ye  may  git  inter  trouble  by  havin'  it  at  all,"  said 
the  man  with  the  chicken  bone.  "What  you  want  to 
bother  with  that  sort  of  thing  for  is  more  than  I  can 
understand." 

Very  little  curiosity  was  displayed  as  to  the  manner 
in  which  the  bicycle  came  into  the  possession  of  the 
two  ruffians.  It  was  plain  that  the  others  believed  they 
had  stolen  it. 

With  their  hats  over  their  faces,  two  rough-looking 
fellows  slept  on,  regardless  of  the  arrival  of  Bob  and 
Pink  and  the  conversation  that  was  taking  place. 

The  new  arrivals  looked  around,  and  then,  leaning 
the  bicycle  against  a  tree,  threw  themselves  on  the 
ground. 

"That's  right,"  said  the  man  with  the  pipe;  "make 
yerselves  to  home  at  the  Hotel  de  Bum.  I  believe  ye 
registered  last  night.  Which  way  are  you  gentle- 
men from?" 


46  The  Tramp's  Camp. 

"The  South,"  answered  Pink,  quickly,  winking  at 
Bob,  who  grinned  and  remained  silent. 

"You're  gittin'  up  late,"  commented  the  smoker. 
"What  part  of  ther  South  did  ye  winter  in?  I  was 
down  in  Floridy  a  part  of  the  winter,  takin'  in  St. 
Augustine,  Lake  Worth,  Palm  Beach,  an'  all  ther  fash- 
ionable places.  I  spent  a  very  pleasant  winter  meetin' 
my  sassiety  friends  frum  the  North  down  that  way." 

"I  don't  care  much  fer  Floridy,"  declared  Bob,  with 
his  usual  chuckle.  "St.  Augustine  ain't  so  bad,  an' 
I  allus  stops  at  ther  Ponce  De  Leon  w'en  I'm  there ;  but 
furder  south  ther  feed  gits  so  bad  it  makes  me  tired. 
Then  there's  fleas  down  that  way.  Fleas  don't  bodder 
some  folks,  but  they  are  very  disagreeable  fer  me.  I 
was  down  in  New  Orleans  this  winter.  Great  place 
that." 

"It's  all  right  at  Mardi  Gras,"  said  the  man  with  the 
pipe,  loftily;  "but  it's  dead  slow  at  other  times.  Too 
many  niggers  down  there,  an'  too  poor  cooks.  Then 
a  feller  gits  malary  down  that  way  if  he  don't  take  ex- 
ercise, an'  exercise  is  work.  Chills  an'  fever  is  sure 
to  tackle  us  Northerners  if  we  hang  around  New 
Orleans  too  long." 


The  Tramp's  Camp.  47 

"Whiskey  is  good  for  that,"  observed  the  man  by 
the  log. 

"Yep,"  nodded  the  smoker.  "I  met  Walker,  an  old 
friend  of  mine,  at  Jacksonville  this  winter.  He  had 
'em,  an'  ther  way  he  was  rattlin'  his  bones  made  me 
think  he'd  struck  old  SL  Vitus.  "Hello,  Walk,'  says 
I.  'What's  ther  matter  with'  yer?'  'Nuthin's  ther 
matter  with  me,  Bill/  says  he,  just  this  way.  Tm 
shakin'  fer  ther  drinks,  that's  all,'  says  he.  An'  neither 
of  us  had  ther  price  in  our  clothes  ter  git  'em,"  con- 
cluded the  tramp,  with  a  sigh. 

This  made  Bob  think  of  a  funny  story,  and  he  told 
it.  Then  the  man  who  had  been  gnawing  at  the  chick- 
en-bone flung  it  into  the  bushes,  wiped  his  mouth  with 
the  back  of  his  hand,  begged  a  chew  of  tobacco  from 
the  smoker,  and  urged  Pink  to  sing  a  song. 

Pink  didn't  seem  to  care  to  sing,  saying  that  he  did 
not  feel  like  it,  but  he  consented  at  last,  and  these  are 
the  words  of  the  song  he  sang,  his  voice  being  a  tenor 
of  good  range,  although  it  was  not  clear,  by  any 
means: 

Oh!  jolly  and  free  is  the  life  of  the  tramp, 

As  he  roams  over  valley  and  hill; 
The  sun  is  his  fire,  and  the  moon  is  his  lamp, 

And  'tis  nature  that  settles  the  bill. 


48  The  Tramp's  Camp. 

The  singing  had  awakened  the  sleepers,  and  they 
grunted  their  lazy  appreciation  when  the  song  was 
finished. 

"There's  nuttin'  like  it,"  nodded  one.  "I'd  rudder 
be  a  tramp  than  a  millionaire.  If  I  was  a  million- 
aire, I'd  be  worried  sick  takin'  care  of  my  wealth,  an' 
then  just  think  of  ther  work  I'd  have  ter  do  cuttin' 
coupons  off  government  bonds!  Them  millionaires 
lead  a  dog's  life.  They'd  oughter  give  away  their 
money,  an'  turn  tramps,  so  they'd  enjoy  life." 

"If  you  hears  about  any  o'  them  as  contemplates 
doin'  anything  o'  ther  kind,  jest  let  me  know,"  grinned 
Bob.  "I'll  tackle  him  for  a  whack  at  his  dust.  Meb- 
be  outer  sympathy  fer  ther  poor  devil,  I'll  change  places 
wid  him." 

Near  at  hand  Frank  Merriwell  was  watching  this 
singular  scene,  and  listening  to  the  conversation.  He 
had  heard  the  song,  and  the  manner  in  which  it  was 
rendered  convinced  him  that  Pink  had  not  always  been 
a  tramp,  for  his  language  and  his  pronunciation  were 
good  when  he  sang,  for  all  that  he  used  such  a  de- 
cidedly illiterate  dialect  in  conversation. 

Frank's  eyes  gleamed  as  they  rested  on  his  wheel, 


The  Tramp's  Camp.  49 

which  he  was  determined  to  recover.  His  strength  had 
returned,  and  with  it  a  feeling  of  anger  and  desperate 
resolve. 

He  slipped  his  fingers  into  a  secret  pocket,  and  felt 
the  tiny  ball  which  had  been  given  him  by  the  man 
he  had  rescued  from  the  railroad  track. 

"The  tramp's  token,"  he  thought.  "I'll  try  and  see 
if  it  will  do  all  the  fellow  claimed.  If  not,  I'll  make 
a  break  to  get  away  with  the  wheel  somehow." 

Then  he  stepped  from  his  place  of  concealment,  and 
boldly  walked  into  the  tramps'  camp. 


CHAPTER  V. 

POWER   OF   THE  SPOTTED   BALL. 

The  tramps  looked  up  in  amazement  as  the  boy 
coolly  walked  into  the  camp.  Bob  and  Pink  uttered 
exclamations  of  astonishment  and  anger,  and  leaped  to 
their  feet 

"How  do  you  do,  gentlemen?"  said  Frank,  smiling 
serenely.  "I  thought  I'd  come  round  and  call  for 
my  wheel  and  other  things.  Don't  disturb  yourselves, 
I  beg  of  you." 

This  nonchalance  seemed  to  take  the  men  aback, 
and  they  stood  staring  stupidly  at  the  boy. 

"Eh?"  said  the  man  with  the  pipe,  which  he  poised 
in  the  air.  "Who  be  you?" 

"I  am  the  owner  of  this  bicycle,  sir." 

"Derned  if  he  ain't  follered  us!"  growled  Pink, 
fiercely. 

Bob  nodded. 

"That's  w'at  he  has,  pal ;  but  he'd  better  kept  away." 

By  this  time  all  the  tramps  were  on  their  feet,  and 


Power  of  the  Spotted  Ball.  5 1 

they  were  regarding  the  boy  in  a  manner  that  was  any- 
thing but  reassuring.  They  were  ugly-appearing  fel- 
lows, and  the  faces  of  the  most  of  them  told  that  they 
would  not  hesitate  at  any  sort  of  crime. 

Still,  if  Frank  felt  at  all  alarmed,  he  easily  con- 
cealed his  feelings,  seeming  utterly  unmoved  by  their 
threatening  manner.  He  saw  they  were  edging  about 
to  surround  him,  and  he  moved  close  to  the  bicycle. 

The  man  with  the  pipe  snarled  at  Bob  and  Pink,  tell- 
ing them  they  were  fine  chaps  to  get  the  gang  into  that 
sort  of  a  scrape.  To  this  the  ruffians  made  no  an- 
swer, but  their  manner  showed  they  were  angered  and 
aroused. 

The  boy  caught  enough  of  the  conversation  that 
was  going  on  around  him  to  realize  that  he  was  in 
danger,  as  the  tramps  believed  he  intended  to  make 
trouble  for  them. 

"I  trust  the  gentlemen  who  borrowed  my  wheel 
have  used  it  as  much  as  they  desire,"  said  the  boy,  "for 
I  am  now  in  need  of  it  myself." 

"Jump  him,  Bob!"  grated  Pink.  "We'll  have  ter 
settle  ther  chap  this  time  for  good  an'  all." 


52  Power  of  the  Spotted  Ball. 

Frank  saw  they  were  on  the  point  of  making  a  rush 
for  him. 

"Stand  back!"  he  suddenly  cried,  in  a  commanding 
manner,  making  a  spring,  and  placing  his  back  against 
a  tree.  "Don't  try  to  touch  me!" 

Bob  laughed,  but  it  was  not  a  mirthful  sound. 

"Ready,  pals!"  cried  Pink.  "We'll  go  at  him  all  to- 
gedder." 

Then  Frank  suddenly  flung  up  one  hand,  holding 
something  between  the  forefinger  and  thumb.  That 
something  was  a  small  black  ball,  covered  with  reddish 
spots  and  queer  heiroglyphics  drawn  in  white  lines. 

"Stand  back!"  he  cried  again.  "Look  at  this! 
Now — now  touch  me,  if  you  dare !" 

The  rough  men  stared  at  the  peculiar  token,  and  the 
boy  saw  a  change  come  over  them.  They  paused  in 
their  tracks,  and  then  they  suddenly  grew  very  re- 
spectful. 

"It  is  ther  spotted  ball!"  exclaimed  the  man  witK 
the  pipe.  "That  lets  him  out  all  right,  all  right." 

Pink  cursed  savagely  beneath  his  breath,  and 
forgot  to  laugh. 


Power  of  the  Spotted  Ball.  53 

"Where  did  ye  git  it,  young  feller?"  asked  one  of 
the  tramps. 

"That  is  nothing  to  you,"  returned  Frank,  boldly, 
seeing  that  the  queer  little  ball  had  been  recognized  as 
a  token  by  the  men.  "I  have  it,  and  that  is  quite 
enough." 

"No!"  snarled  Pink;  "it  ain't  enough!  You  must 
have  stole  it.  Give  it  up !" 

He  rushed  forward,  and  tried  to  snatch  the  ball  from 
Frank's  hand. 

Then  it  was  that,  with  a  swinging  blow,  into  which 
the  young  athlete  put  all  his  strength,  Merriwell  caught 
the  ruffian  a  blow  on  the  chin,  lifting  him  off  his  feet 
and  hurling  him  backward. 

Pink  struck  on  his  head  and  shoulders,  the  wind 
going  out  of  his  body  with  a  great  puff,  and  lay 
stretched  on  the  ground,  without  offering  to  get  up. 

It  was  a  genuine  prize-fighter's  blow,  and  the  tramps 
gasped  with  unspeakable  amazement  when  they  saw 
the  big  ruffian  hurled  through  the  air  in  such  a  man- 
ner. 

Merriwell  was  young  in  years,  but,  youth  though  he 
was,  it  immediately  became  plain  that  he  was  not  a 


54  Power  of  the  Spotted  Ball. 

harmless  lad  with  whom  to  fool.  He  could  strike 
a  terrible  blow,  as  he  had  readily  demonstrated. 

"It  served  him  right,"  said  the  man  with  the  pipe, 
giving  the  fallen  tramp  a  kick.  "He  had  no  business 
ter  try  ter  snatch  ther  spotted  ball." 

With  this  the  other  tramps  agreed,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Bob,  who  hastened  to  lift  his  friend's  head, 
saying: 

"Git  up,  Pink!     Be  yer  hurted  much?" 

Pink  opened  his  eyes  and  stared  around  in  a  blank 
manner. 

"Hurted!"  he  mumbled,  as  if  his  tongue  were  be- 
numbed. "I  feels  like  I  had  been  blowed  up  by  dyner- 
mite!  Wat  did  he  strike  me  wid?" 

"His  fist." 

"Well,  w'at  did  he  have  hid  in  his  fist?" 

"Nuttin'." 

"Now,  don't  go  fer  ter  tell  me  that !  No  youngster 
like  him  could  knock  me  silly  wid  one  belt  o'  his  bare 
fist.  He  must  uf  hed  knuckles  on." 

It  was  quite  impossible  to  convince  Pink  that  he  had 
not  been  struck  with  anything  heavier  than  a  boy's  fist. 


Power  of  the  Spotted  Ball.  55 

At  the  same  time,  he  did  not  seem  to  care  about  getting 
within  reach  of  Merriwell's  hand  again. 

The  appearance  of  the  spotted  ball  and  the  boy's 
readiness  to  defend  himself  caused  the  tramps  to  re- 
gard the  visitor  with  the  greatest  respect. 

The  man  with  the  pipe  took  off  his  wretched  old 
hat,  and  bowed  with  exaggerated  politeness,  as  he 
said: 

"Welcome,  partner — welcome  to  ther  Hotel  de  Bum. 
If  yer  care  ter  stay,  ye  shall  have  ther  best  room  on 
ther  ground  floor,  with  all  ther  modern  conveniences 
that  ther  house  affords." 

"Thank  you,"  laughed  Frank,  in  an  easy  manner. 
"I  don't  think  I'll  stop,  as  I  happen  to  be  in  a  hurry; 
but,  if  you  do  not  mind,  I'll  take  my  valuables,  which 
happen  to  be  in  the  possession  of  the  clerk  there." 

He  pointed  at  Pink,  who  was  standing  aloof,  feeling 
of  his  chin  in  a  doubtful  way,  as  if  he  feared  his  jaw 
•had  been  broken. 

"Mr.  Jones,"  said  the  man  with  the  pipe,  "will  you 
hand  over  the  young  gent's  valuables?  An'  you,  Mr. 
Joyce,  if  you  have  any  of  them,  yer  want  ter  cough 
'em  up." 


56  Power  of  the  Spotted  Ball. 

This  was  said  in  a  manner  that  made  it  a  command. 
The  two  tramps  who  had  assaulted  and  robbed  Frank 
hesitated  and  muttered ;  as  if  they  were  inclined  to  re- 
fuse to  obey. 

The  man  with  the  pipe  made  a  lazy  sort  of  signal, 
and  the  other  tramps  began  to  gather  around  Bob  and 
Pink,  their  manner  showing  they  were  ready  to  do  as 
they  should  be  directed. 

The  cornered  ruffians  saw  things  had  turned  against 
them,  and  they  reluctantly  began  to  disgorge.  Ev- 
erything they  gave  up  was  immediately  handed  over  to 
the  owner,  and  he  was  politely  asked  to  make  sure 
nothing  had  been  retained. 

Frank  would  have  been  well  satisfied  to  recover  his 
wheel,  and  he  was  far  better  satisfied  to  regain  pos- 
session of  everything  that  had  been  taken  from  him. 

"Well,  I  didn't  do  such  a  bad  turn  for  myself  when 
I  saved  the  tramp  from  being  killed  by  the  railroad 
train,"  was  his  mental  decision. 

When  everything  had  been  returned  to  the  boy,  the 
leader  of  the  tramps  politely  expressed  his  regret  if 
he  had  been  put  to  any  trouble,  and  hoped  that  he 
would  not  see  fit  to  cause  any  unpleasantness  by  re- 


Power  of  the  Spotted  Ball.  57 

porting-  the  affair  to  the  authorities.  More  than  that, 
he  was  informed  that  he  need  not  fear  being  molested 
by  tramps  if  he  retained  the  spotted  ball  and  promptly 
showed  it  on  the  proper  occasions. 

Frank  was  rather  doubtful  of  the  sincerity  of  the 
tramps  up  to  the  moment  when  he  was  permitted  to 
take  his  wheel  and  leave  the  grove. 

"This  was  a  queer  adventure,  to  say  the  least,"  he 
muttered,  as  he  trundled  the  bicycle  through  the  field 
of  corn.  "I  wouldn't  mind  it  much  but  for  the  fact 
that  I  am  sore  between  the  shoulders,  where  that  ruf- 
fian's club  struck  me  when  I  was  knocked  from  the 
wheel,  and  the  shock  of  falling  was  rather  severe." 

He  reached  the  road,  mounted  his  wheel  and  rode 
away. 

As  he  rode  along  he  thought  over  his  late  adventure. 
He  felt  that  he  would  remember  the  two  men  who  had 
attacked  him,  and  he  was  confident  he  had  heard  their 
names  before.  Joyce  and  Jones.  He  repeated  the 
names  over  and  over,  and  then,  of  a  sudden,  he  re- 
membered. 

The  tramp  who  had  been  tied  to  the  track  had  said 
that  the  names  of  the  men  who  tied  him  there  were 


58  Power  of  the  Spotted  Ball. 

Joyce  and  Jones.  He  had  said  that  Joyce  was  a  jolly 
chap  who  told  funny  stories,  and  Jones  was  a  beautiful 
singer.  As  Frank  was  peering  into  the  tramps'  camp^ 
he  had  heard  Joyce  tell  one  of  his  funny  stories,  and 
Jones  had  been  induced  to  sing  a  song. 

"They  are  the  very  ruffians !"  he  cried.  "There  isn't 
a  doubt  of  it !  They  must  have  traveled  by  rail  to  get 
here  ahead  of  me,  but  here  they  are.  If  Briggs  were 
here,  I'd  spend  time  enough  to  put  him  after  them." 

But  Briggs  was  not  there,  and  he  rode  on,  little 
thinking  he  would  ever  see  Joyce  and  Jones  again. 

But  he  had  not  seen  them  for  the  last  time. 

When  Frank  regained  the  highway,  he  hastened  to 
mount  and  pedal  after  his(  friends,  and  he  found  them 
returning  to  look  for  him. 

"Well,  hay  I  be  banged — I  mean  may  I  be  hanged !" 
cried  Rattleton.  "I'd  like  to  know  how  we  missed 
you!" 

Frank  laughed,  and  then,  as  the  boys  turned  about 
and  rode  along  with  him,  he  told  them  of  his  recent 
adventure. 

Diamond  was  highly  indignant,  and  wished  to  have 


Power  of  the  Spotted  Ball.  59 

the  tramps  punished,  but  Merriwell  declared  they  could 
not  afford  to  waste  time  to  bother  with  the  ruffians. 

"How  in  the  world  did  you  get  out  of  the  scrape, 
Merry?"  asked  Jack. 

"By  aid  of  the  tramp's  token — the  spotted  ball." 

"How  did  that  aid  you?" 

"I  showed  it,  and  that  was  all  that  was  necessary0 
I  was  treated  with  the  greatest  consideration  imme- 
diately." 

"Well,  how  do  you  explain  that?"  asked  Harry. 

"The  only  explanation  I  can  give  is  that  there  must 
be  some  sort  of  secret  order  or  organization  among 
the  tramps,  and  that  whoever  carries  one  of  those 
spotted  balls  is  guaranteed  from  injury  by  any  of  the 
order.  I  have  heard  of  such  an  organization." 

"Well,  if  dat  am  a  fac',"  cried  Toots,  "dis  chile  am 
gwine  teh  make  spotted  balls  by  de  cord.  Dey  am 
mighty  goot  things  teh  have  'roun'  yeh  close,  chilluns." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE     RUN  AWAY. 

A  day  later  Frank  and  -his  friends  were  riding 
toward  a  town  not  more  than  twelve  miles  from  St. 
Louis. 

The  boys  were  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and  they  joked 
and  laughed  as  they  pedaled  along. 

Frank  was  rather  lame  between  his  shoulders,  but  he 
did  not  mind  that,  and  his  jolly  sallies  kept  the  others 
laughing. 

Along  the  road  came  a  carriage,  drawn  by  two 
handsome  horses.  In  the  carriage  sat  a  man  and  a 
little  girl.  The  girl  was  very  pretty,  but  there  was  a 
haughty,  overbearing  air  about  the  man,  who  was 
portly  and  flashily  dressed. 

The  horses  were  high-spirited,  and  the  road  not  very 
wide  at  the  point  where  the  bicyclists  and  the  carriage 
must  meet  and  pass. 

"Get  out  of  the  road  there!"  cried  the  man,  in  an 
arrogant  manner,  scowling  at  the  boys. 


The  Runaway.  61 

And  then,  as  Bruce  Browning  turned  cut  somewhat 
slowly,  the  man  reined  the  horses  toward  him,  and 
Bruce  escaped  with  some  difficulty  by  leaping  from  his 
wheel  and  running  out  by  the  roadside.  One  of  the 
carriage  wheels  grazed  the  tire  of  the  rear  wheel  of 
Browning's  bicycle. 

"Well,  confound  that  big  hog!"  angrily  exploded 
Bruce,  as  he  turned  and  started  after  the  team.  "Why, 
he  tried  to  run  over  me!  I'd  like  to  punch  his  fat 
head!" 

"And  I  wouldn't  mind  helping  you  do  it,"  said 
Frank,  who  was  indignant  at  the  action  of  the  unknown 
man. 

"Some  persons  seem  to  get  an  idea  that  a  bicycle 
rider  doesn't  have  any  rights  at  all,"  said  Harry. 
"They  crowd  him  every  fance  they  chind — no,  every 
chance  they  find." 

Bruce  brought  his  wheel  back  to  the  road,  and  ex- 
amined it  to  make  sure  it  had  sustained  no  damage. 
It  was  all  right,  and  he  mounted,  after  repeatedly  ex- 
pressing a  desire  to  follow  the  man  and  "have  an  ar- 
gument" with  him. 

The  boys  were  taking  their  time,  and,  before  they 


62  The  Runaway. 

entered  the  village,  they  heard  horses'  hoofs  and  wheels 
behind  them.  Then,  once  more  came  the  shout  for 
them  to  get  out  of  the  road. 

Looking  back,  they  saw  the  same  span  approaching, 
driven  by  the  same  stout  man,  to  whose  arm  the  little 
girl  was  clinging. 

The  hot  blood  flushed  Jack  Diamond's  face,  and  the 
spirit  of  the  young  Virginian  was  aroused. 

"If  you  run  over  me,  it  will  cost  you  something!" 
he  flung  back. 

An  angry  retort  leaped  from  the  man's  lips.  He  said 
something  about  "insolence,"  and  then  reined  the 
horses  toward  Jack,  although  the  road  was  wide 
enough  at  that  point  for  him  to  pass  with  ease. 

Jack's  hand  went  into  his  pocket  and  came  out  in  a 
twinkling.  In  his  grasp  was  a  big  torpedo,  one  of  a 
number  that  he  carried  for  the  purpose  of  scaring  off 
dogs  that  might  become  troublesome.  His  hand  was 
lifted,  and  he  flung  the  torpedo  directly  beneath  the 
feet  of  the  horses. 

There  was  a  flash  of  fire,  a  sharp  report,  snorts  of 
alarm,  a  scream  of  terror  from  the  child  and  an  ex- 
clamation of  alarm  and  anger  from  the  man.  Then 


The  Runaway.  63 

the  frightened  horses  leaped  away,  nearly  upsetting  the 
carriage.  In  another  moment  they  were  running 
madly  down  the  road,  dragging  the  rocking  carriage 
along  at  alarming  speed. 

Frank  Merriwell  instantly  saw  that  the  man  had 
lost  control  of  the  spirited  animals.  The  scream  of 
terror  from  the  pretty  child  and  the  look  of  fear  on  her 
innocent  face  appealed  to  him,  and  away  he  darted  in 
hot  pursuit  of  the  runaways. 

The  child  continued  to  shriek,  while  the  man  made 
desperate  efforts  to  check  the  frightened  horses,  but 
they  seemed  to  run  faster  and  faster  with  each  passing 
moment. 

The  other  lads  started  in  pursuit,  but  they  were  not 
so  quick  in  getting  away,  and  Frank  had  a  long  lead. 

The  hoofs  of  the  horses  tore  up  the  dirt,  and  Merri- 
well's  nostrils  and  eyes  were  filled  with  dust.  This 
did  not  retard  him  in  the  least,  for,  with  firm-set  mouth 
and  resolute  face,  he  bent  over  the  handlebars  and  made 
the  wheel  fly  over  the  road. 

Frank  was  determined  to  overtake  the  runaways 
and  do  what  he  could  to  check  the  frightened  animals. 
If  harm  came  to  the  little  girl  Frank  felt  that  Jack 


64  The  Runaway. 

would  be  to  blame,  and  he  knew  the  young  Virginian 
would  never  forgive  himself  for  throwing  that  tor- 
pedo. 

Fortunately  the  road  was  clear,  and  the  horses  dashed 
straight  ahead  after  that  first  wild  swerve.  But  they 
added  to  each  other's  terror  by  their  companionship, 
and  it  seemed  that  a  hand  of  iron  could  not  check 
them. 

Frank  made  wonderful  speed,  and  the  outskirts  of 
the  village  were  reached  when  the  boy  ran  the  for- 
ward wheel  of  his  bicycle  under  the  back  of  the  car- 
riage. 

Then  he  nerved  himself  for  an  almost  superhuman 
effort,  knowing  that  the  slightest  mistake  would  hurl 
him  into  the  dust  of  the  road. 

Like  a  flash,  he  lifted  himself  on  his  machine  and 
leaped! 

It  was  a  most  amazing  spring,  and  it  carried  the 
boy  from  the  wheel  into  the  back  of  the  carriage, 
where  he  clung. 

A  moment  later  Frank  went  over  the  child's  head  and 
clutched  the  reins,  snatching  them  from  the  nerveless 
hands  of  the  frightened  man. 


The  Runaway.  65 

Along  the  main  street  of  the  village  galloped  the 
horses,  and  the  villagers  saw  a  spectacle  that  filled  them 
with  excitement  and  astonishment. 

Frank  knew  how  to  handle  those  horses,  and  he  real- 
ized that  they  could  not  be  subdued  in  a  moment.  He 
gathered  in  the  reins,  winding  them  about  his  hands, 
and  then  he  brought  all  his  superb  young  strength 
into  play. 

The  frightened  animals  had  grasped  the  bits  with 
their  teeth,  and  skill  as  well  as  strength  was  required 
to  get  control  of  them. 

Frank  talked  to  them  soothingly,  his  voice  like  liquid 
music.  He  endeavored  to  show  the  creatures  that  he 
was  their  master,  and,  at  the  same  time,  he  did  every- 
thing to  allay  their  fears.  He  did  not  yank  them, 
and  yet  he  checked  their  speed  with  strong  surges. 

Fortunately  they  had  not  begun  kicking,  and  the 
boy  labored  to  check  them  without  leading  them  to  use 
their  heels,  as  that  was  what  he  feared  most. 

The  man  had  been  amazed  by  the  appearance  of  the 
boy,  as  he  had  not  dreamed  that  one  of  the  bicyclists 
could  overtake  the  carriage  and  get  into  it.  It  seemed 


66  The  Runaway. 

a  marvel  that  Frank  Merriwell  should  come  vaulting 
over  the  head  of  the  child  and  clutch  the  reins. 

Luckily  the  little  girl  became  too  frightened  to 
scream,  and  so  her  shrill  voice  ceased  to  add  to  the 
terror  of  the  horses. 

Frank  held  the  animals  to  the  straight  street,  pray- 
ing that  the  way  might  remain  clear  before  them. 

An  old  farmer  was  slow  about  getting  his  team  and 
himself  out  of  the  road,  and  a  collision  was  averted 
by  scarcely  more  than  a  hair's  breadth. 

Jack  Diamond,  riding  like  the  wind,  flashed  along 
beside  the  carriage,  and  cried : 

"Is  there  anything  I  can  do,  Merry?" 

"Keep  away!" 

That  was  all  the  answer  Frank  made,  but  Jack  un- 
derstood and  obeyed. 

Through  the  village  lunged  the  runaways,  but  the 
boy  was  beginning  to  get  them  under  control. 

"Whoa,  my  beauties,"  sounded  his  clear,  musical 
voice.  "Steady,  boys!  There  is  nothing  to  be  afraid 
of,  ponies.  Whoa,  now — whoa,  boys !  You  are  kick- 
ing up  a  dust,  but  it's  time  to  calm  down.  Easy,  there 
— easy,  now.  So — that's  better.  Whoa,  who-o-oa!" 


The  Runaway.  67 

It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  soothing  sweetness 
of  his  voice.  The  horses  heard,  and  they  began  to 
show  less  terror.  Little  by  little  they  calmed  down, 
reassured  and  quieted  by  the  lad's  voice,  rather  than 
conquered  by  his  strength. 

And  the  big  man  in  the  carriage,  the  owner  of  those 
horses,  clung  to  the  seat  and  the  little  girl,  filled  with 
wonder  by  what  had  occurred  and  what  was  taking 
place. 

And  so,  in  a  short  time,  Frank  brought  them  to  a 
walk,  finally  stopping  them  entirely.  Then  he  placed 
the  reins  in  the  hands  of  the  big  man,  and,  with  a  light 
laugh,  as  if  the  incident  had  been  most  enjoyable, 
leaped  to  the  ground,  where  he  removed  his  cap  and 
bowed  to  the  little  girl,  who  was  sobbing  and  clinging 
to  the  man. 

"There  is  nothing  to  be  afraid  of  now,  dear  Little 
Blue  Eyes,"  he  said.  "The  danger  is  all  over,  and  the 
horses  will  not  run  away  again." 

There  was  a  gurgle  in  the  fat  throat  of  the  man,  and 
he  glared  at  the  boy.  His  face,  which  had  been  blood- 
less and  lead-colored,  began  to  flush  and  grow  purple, 
in  an  angry,  unhealthy  manner. 


68  The  Runaway. 

"A  nice  piece  of  business,  this !"  he  grated,  his  rage 
showing  in  his  eyes.  "They  would  not  have  run  away 
in  the  first  place  but  for  you  and  your  gang  of  hood- 
lums." 

Now  Frank  did  not  like  the  man's  manner,  his  tone, 
or  his  words.  The  laughing  look  fled  from  his  face, 
and  his  lips  closed  over  his  white  teeth.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  looked  the  big  man  straight  in  the  eyes,  and 
then  he  coldly  said : 

"We  are  not  hoodlums,  sir,  and  you  are  the  one  who 
is  to  blame  for  this  entire  affair,  as  you  very  well 
know." 

"What's  that?"  huskily  cried  the  man.  "Why,  you 

insolent  young  scoundrel !  do  you  dare It's  too 

much!" 

Words  seemed  to  fail  him,  and  he  stopped,  gurgling 
and  choking. 

"Yes,  I  dare,"  said  the  boy  from  Yale,  and  it  was 
plain  that  he  was  not  in  the  least  awed  by  the  big  man. 
"I  dare  tell  you  that  you  are  one  of  those  offensive 
human  beings  who  seem  to  think  they  own  the  earth. 
You  will  impose  on  any  one  who  has  not  the  nerve  or 
the  strength  to  resent  it,  and  you  made  two  outrageous 


The  Runaway.  69 

attempts  to  run  over  members  of  my  party  a  short  time 
ago;  but  this  time  you  stacked  up  against  the  wrong 
people,  for  we  do  not  propose  to  be  run  over  by  the 
President  of  the  United  States,  or  the  Czar  of  Russia 
— much  less  by  such  a  person  as  you.  We  are  boys,  it 
is  true,  but  we  can  look  out  for  ourselves." 

By  this  time  Jack  Diamond  was  on  hand,  and  the 
other  boys  were  approaching.  Jack  was  angry. 

"It  would  have  served  you  right  if  your  horses  had 
thrown  you  out  and  broken  your  neck!"  burst  from 
the  hot-blooded  Virginian. 

"And  but  for  this  little  girl,  whose  pretty  face  filled 
me  with  a  desire  to  save  her  from  harm,  I  should  have 
left  you  to  take  care  of  your  own  runaway  horses," 
declared  Frank. 

"I  could  have  taken  care  of  them  all  right,"  rasped 
the  big  man,  in  great  fury.  "It  would  have  been  bet- 
ter if  you  had  minded  your  own  business  and  let  me 
alone." 

"Why,  you  thick-headed  old  chump!"  exploded 
Harry  Rattleton,  who  had  come  up  in  time  to  hear  the 
man's  final  words,  "if  Merry  had  let  you  alone,  those 
horses  would  have  smashed  the  carriage  and  thrown 


7o  The  Runaway. 

out  yourself  and  the  little  girl.  It's  four  to  one  that 
Merry  saved  your  life,  flasted  bool — I  mean  blasted 
fool — that  you  don't  know  it !" 

That  was  more  than  the  man  could  endure,  and  he 
uttered  words  that  would  not  look  well  in  print. 

"You  insolent  young  whelps  you  do  not  know  who  I 
am!"  he  shouted. 

"And  we  don't  care  a  rap,  don't  you  know,"  drawled 
Bruce  Browning,  who  had  arrived. 

"Dat's  right,"  nodded  Toots.  "Yo*  ain't  de  only 
one,  ma-an — dere  am  odders.  Yo'  ain't  de  only  pea- 
nut in  shop — yo'  kin  be  roasted." 

"My  name  is  Lyman  Lawrence,  and  I  am  a  justice 
of  the  peace,"  declared  the  big  man.  "If  you  do  not 
get  out  of  this  town  in  short  order,  I'll  have  you  all 
arrested  and  fined." 

"Dat  is,  if  yo'  kin  find  us,"  grinned  the  colored  boy. 

"Be  quiet,  Toots/'  ordered  Frank.  "For  what 
would  you  fine  us,  sir?" 

"For  carrying  concealed  weapons." 

"But  we  do  not  carry  concealed  weapons." 

"I  know  better !  That  chap  there  fired  a  pistol  and 
scared  my  horses." 


The  Runaway.  71 

"That's  where  you  are  mistaken,"  contradicted  Jack. 
"I  simply  threw  a  torpedo,  which  I  carry  for  the  pur- 
pose of  frightening  away  ugly  dogs." 

"Well,  you  frightened  my  horses,  anyway,"  grum- 
bled the  man,  "and  I'll  have  you  all  arrested  if  you 
dare  show  your  heads  back  in  the  village.  That  set- 
tles it." 

Then,  finding  a  wide  place  in  the  road,  he  turned  his 
team  about,  and  drove  back  toward  the  village. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   TRAMPS   APPEAR   AGAIN. 

"Well,  he  is  a  nice  sort  of  old  duffer — nit!"  ex- 
claimed Rattleton,  in  supreme  disgust,  as  the  boys 
watched  the  departing  carriage. 

"He's  a  gin'wine  gemmans — I  don'  think!"  ob- 
served Toots,  in  ludicrous  scorn. 

"It  would  do  him  good  to  have  his  head  punched," 
drawled  Browning,  in  his  lazy  way;  "and  it  would  do 
me  good  to  punch  it." 

"Such  creatures  make  me  sick!"  exclaimed  Dia- 
mond, hotly. 

Frank's  face  relaxed,  and  he  smiled,  as  if  the  whole 
thing  were  a  most  amusing  joke,  which  he  alone  ap- 
preciated. 

"It's  no  use  to  be  hot  over  it,"  he  said.  "The  world 
is  made  up  of  all  sorts  and  conditions  of  men.  We 
are  sure  to  run  up  against  unpleasant  persons  on  our 
sojourn  through  life." 

"Well,  you  have  a  way  of  looking  at  such  things 


The  Tramps  Appear  Again.  73 

that  I  cannot  understand,"  declared  Jack.  "I  never 
know  whether  you  are  going  to  laugh  over  anything 
as  a  joke,  or  let  yourself  out  and  knock  the  stuffing 
out  of  somebody.  I  have  known  you  for  some  time, 
Merry,  but  I  am  free  to  confess  that  I  do  not  compre- 
hend you  yet.  I  don't  believe  you  are  built  like  other 
fellows." 

"Why  should  we  all  be  built  after  the  same  pattern  ?" 
was  the  laughing  question.  "It  takes  all  kinds  of 
men  to  make  up  a  world,  and  variety  among  human 
beings  is  as  interesting  as  variety  in  other  things." 

"Dat  am  a  fac',"  nodded  Toots,  with  a  sage  ex- 
pression. 

"I  believe  in  every  person  being  himself,"  Frank 
went  on.  "If  there  is  anything  on  earth  that  makes 
me  weary  it  is  the  chap  who  tries  to  imitate  some  other 
fellow.  Such  a  chap  lacks  originality,  lacks  distinct- 
iveness,  lacks  force,  and  is  pretty  sure  to  be  an  imitator 
in  everything  he  does  all  his  life.  You  may  be  sure 
he'll  never  startle  the  world  by  doing  anything  novel 
or  original." 

"Well,  we  are  not  thinking  about  startling  the  world 


74  The  Tramps  Appear  Again. 

just  now,"  said  Bruce.  "What  we  are  thinking  about 
is  the  way  that  old  chap  has  treated  us." 

"I  do  not  propose  to  think  about  that  any  more,"  said 
Frank.  "It  is  all  over  now,  and  it's  not  likely  we'll 
have  any  further  dealings  with  him." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  Jack  declared.  "Your 
wheel  is  beside  the  road  beyond  this  town,  where  I  told 
Toots  to  put  it,  and  we  must  go  back  through  the  town, 
in  order  to  recover  it." 

"That  is  all  right." 

"It's  all  right;  but  you  will  remember  that  Mr.  Ly- 
man  Lawrence  has  threatened  to  have  us  arrested  if  we 
dare  show  ourselves  in  the  place." 

"And  it  struck  me  that  Mr.  Lawrence  was  putting 
up  a  big  bluff  w-hen  he  made  that  remark." 

"You  do  not  believe  he  will  make  good  his  threat?" 

"No." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  Rattleton  hastily  put  in. 
"He  is  a  vindictive  old  wretch,  and  it  might  be  just 
like  him  to  do  so." 

"I  am  willing  to  take  chances  on  it,"  said  Frank. 

"An'  dis  chile  am  wid  yo',"  declared  Toots,  swag- 
geringly. 


The  Tramps  Appear  Again.  75 

"Old  Lawrence  seemed  to  think  that  he  tuns  the 
rown — I  mean  runs  the  town,"  hastily  said  Rattleton. 

"And,  as  police  justice,  he  may  be  able  to  make  it 
unpleasant  for  us  there,"  said  Bruce. 

"All  this  makes  me  feel  all  the  more  like  going  back 
to  see  what  he  will  do,"  smiled  Frank. 

"An'  it  jes'  meks  me  feel  dat  way,  too,"  grinned 
Toots,  who  was  determined  to  stand  in  with  Frank. 

"I  think  we'd  better  go  back  boldly,"  said  Jack.  "It 
will  not  be  good  policy  to  let  the  man  think  he  has  in- 
timidated us  in  the  least." 

So  the  boys  decided  to  return  to  the  town.  Jack 
had  a  step  on  his  bicycle,  and  on  this  step  Frank  stood 
with  one  foot,  while  the  Virginian  worked  the  pedals. 
In  that  manner  they  rode  back  to  town,  passed  through, 
and  found  the  bicycle  where  it  had  been  left  beside 
the  road. 

"Now  I  feel  like  myself  again,"  cried  Frank,  when 
he  was  mounted  on  his  wheel.  "This  affair  has  been 
a  little  diversion,  the  same  as  my  encounter  with 
tramps." 

"We  must  pass  tfirougH  the  town  again,"  said 
Bruce. 


76  The  Tramps  Appear  Again. 

"That  is  true,  and  I  have  a  fancy  to  stop  a  while 
in  the  town." 

"Why?" 

"Oh,  just  because  I  feel  like  it,  that  is  all.  It  can't 
be  far  from  midday,  and  we  might  get  something  to 
eat  there." 

"By  golly!"  cried  the  colored  lad;  "dat  strikes  dis 
chile  jes'  where  he  libs !  I's  so  holler  dat  I  kin  feel  de 
notches  in  mail  backbone  ebery  time  I  put  mah  han'  on 
mah  stomach." 

"You  carry  around  an  appetite  like  an  alligator," 
said  Harry. 

"Dunno  nuffin'  'bout  yeh  allumgator,  but  I  knows 
dis  ridin'  a  bisuckle  makes  me  feel  lek  I  could  eat  ah 
fried  bootleg  sometimes.  Dis  am  one  of  de  times." 

"And  I  am  aweary  and  aweary,"  sighed  Bruce.  "I 
am  aweary,  and  I  wish  I  were  in  bed.  I  feel  like  stop- 
ping in  yonder  hamlet  and  resting  these  weary  bones 
of  mine." 

"Beary  wones — I  mean  weary  bones !"  cried  Harry, 
in  derision.  "I'd  like  to  know  where  you  keep  'em. 
I  don't  believe  you  have  any  more  bones  than  a  jelly- 
fish." 


The  Tramps  Appear  Again.  77 

"You'd  think  I  had  a  few  bones  if  I  should  take  a 
fancy  to  push  my  fist  up  under  your  ear  once,"  growled 
the  big  fellow. 

"What  do  you  say  about  stopping,  Jack?"  asked 
Frank. 

"I  am  willing  to  stop  a  while  and  see  what  Mr.  Law- 
rence will  do,"  said  the  young  Virginian,  rather  sav- 
agely. 

"All  right;  stop  it  is,"  cried  Frank. 

They  rode  into  town,  stared  at  by  the  citizens  who 
had  witnessed  the  runaway  and  the  pursuit  of  the  bi- 
cycle boys.  Straight  to  the  hotel  they  went,  followed 
by  a  number  of  curious  persons. 

At  the  hotel  the  boys  put  up,  and  ordered  dinner 
for  five. 

Later,  they  came  out  upon  the  veranda,  where  they 
sat  about  in  the  shade,  Browning  smoking  cigarettes 
and  half  dozing. 

Several  village  loafers  had  stopped  at  the  hotel,  and 
a  number  of  boys  stood  about  and  stared  at  the  hand- 
some uniforms  of  the  young  tourists. 

Frank  sat  down  beside  an  old  man,  to  whom  he 
spoke  pleasantly,  observing: 


78  The  Tramps  Appear  Again. 

"You  seem  to  have  a  rather  pretty  little  village 
here." 

"Ya-as,"  was  the  moderate  reply,  "it's  a  purty  good 
town.  All  the  fault  there  is  to  find  with  it  is  that  too 
many  rich  men  live  here.  Where  are  you  fellers 
from?" 

Frank  answered  the  question,  explaining  that  they 
were  on  their  way  across  the  continent,  which  caused 
the  eyes  of  the  old  man  to  open  with  wonder  and 
incredulity.  The  other  curious  townsmen  had  gath- 
ered around,  and  their  faces  showed  doubt.  Some  of 
them  grinned  at  each  other  knowingly,  and  the  old 
man,  who  gave  his  name  as  Rufus  Sap,  said : 

"Now,  don't  try  to  fool  with  us.  You  don't  want 
us  to  believe  you  boys  are  try  in'  to  ride  them  bi  suckles 
from  New  York  to  San  Francisco?" 

"Well,"  laughed  Frank,  "you  may  not  believe  it, 
but  it  is  quite  true,  just  the  same." 

"You'll  never  do  it!" 

"Why  not?" 

"Too  far,"  grunted  Mr.  Sap. 

"We  have  ridden  from  New  York  to  this  place !" 

"How  is  the  ridin'  on  the  railroads  nowadays?" 


The  Tramps  Appear  Again.  79 

whimsically  asked  the  old  man.  "I  ain't  rid  much 
for  a  long  time." 

"The  jamed  old  blay — I  mean  the  blamed  old  jay !" 
muttered  Harry,  in  mingled  amusement  and  anger. 
"He  thinks  Frank  is  stringing  him." 

"Keep  still,"  ordered  Jack.  "It  is  not  so  very 
strange  that  some  old  men  who  do  not  know  much 
absmt  bicycles  should  think  such  a  feat  impossible.'* 

Frank  was  amused. 

"We  have  not  found  it  necessary  to  ride  on  the  rail- 
roads since  leaving  New  York,"  he  declared. 

"Well,  yer  must  have  been  an  awful  long  time 
comin',"  said  Mr.  Sap.  "S'pose  you  started  as  soon 
as  the  snow  was  off  the  ground?" 

"Well,  not  quite  so  soon  as  that,"  smiled  Frank. 

"You'll  be  lucky  if  you  ever  git  to  'Frisco.  You 
can't  ride  over  the  Rocky  Mount'ins,  and  I'll  bet  a  good 
fat  hog  you  don't  get  out  to  'Frisco  before  the  first 
of  next  year." 

"Did  you  observe  that  I  was  in  the  carriage  of  the 
man  whose  horses  ran  away  and  took  him  through 
town  a  short  time  ago  ?" 

"Yes,  I  saw  ye." 


8o  The  Tramps  Appear  Again. 

"And  did  you  see  my  friends  following  at  a  speed 
equal  to  that  of  the  runaway  horses  ?" 

"They  was  goin'  at  a  great  stick,"  confessed  the  old 
settler;  "but  they  couldn't  keep  that  up  long,"  he 
added,  as  if  that  settled  the  matter. 

"Well,  let  me  tell  you  that  I  started  on  my  bicycle 
in  pursuit  of  that  team  after  the  horses  were  running 
away,  overtook  it,  got  into  the  carriage,  and  finally 
stopped  the  horses." 

Mr.  Sap  fairly  gasped  for  breath. 

"Do  you  want  me  to  b'lieve  you  could  do  that  ?"  he 
rather  angrily  demanded.  "Well,  I  aint'  no  fool,  if  I 
am  an  old  man,  and  I  won't  be  imposed  on  by  any 
young  upstart  like  you !  You  can  tell  your  fish  stories 
to  them  that  will  swaller  'em !" 

With  that,  he  got  up  from  his  chair,  rather  stiffly, 
and,  assisted  by  his  cane,  hobbled  slowly  and  painfully 
away. 

Frank  could  not  hold  back  his  merry  laughter,  and 
the  other  boys  joined  him  in  his  mirth.  Some  of  the 
townsfolk  laughed,  and  some  looked  angry,  as  if  they 
thought  they  were  being  guyed. 

A  young  man  took  the  chair  vacated  by  Mr.  Sap. 


The  Tramps  Appear  Again.  81 

"You  mustn't  mind  him,"  said  the  young  man,  wav- 
ing his  hand  toward  the  retreating  figure  of  the  old 
settler.  "He  can't  understand  that  a  bicycle  is  capable 
of  such  speed.  He  is  one  of  the  old-timers,  and  he  is 
not  willing  to  believe  that  modern  progress  is  capable 
of  producing  things  so  vastly  superior  to  anything 
they  had  in  his  day." 

Frank  sized  up  the  young  man  at  a  glance,  deciding 
that  here  was  a  person  who  wished  to  display  his  up- 
to-dateness.  At  the  same  time,  Merriwell  believed  that 
he  could  question  the  fellow,  and  so  he  immediately 
said: 

"I  do  not  mind  any  old  person  who  is  set  in  his 
peculiar  beliefs  and  convictions.  By  the  way,  I  believe 
the  name  of  the  man  whose  horses  ran  away  is  Lyman 
Lawrence  ?" 

"That  is  right — Judge  Lyman  Lawrence,  one  of  the 
wealthiest  men  in  the  State,  it  is  said.  That  small 
building  over  there  is  his  office,  and  that  fine  house 
on  the  corner  down  there  is  his  residence." 

"He  must  have  some  business  besides  that  of  police 
justice?" 


82  The  Tramps  Appear  Again. 

"Oh,  he  is  the  owner  of  a  valuable  mine  in  Colo- 
rado. His  mine  brings  him  in  an  immense  income." 

"Is  he  a  popular  man  in  town?" 

"Well,"  was  the  confidential  reply,  "he  is  not  exactly 
what  you  might  call  popular,  but  he  has  influence,  and 
he  is  feared.  Folks  around  here  don't  care  to  get  him 
down  on  'em." 

"I  suppose  the  child  I  saw  in  the  carriage  with  him 
is  his  daughter,  is  it  not  ?" 

"Yes,  sir — his  only  child.  His  wife  is  an  invalid, 
and" — the  young  man  lowered  his  voice — "it  is  said 
she  does  not  lead  the  happiest  life  imaginable  with 
him.  She  has  few  friends,  and  she  is  seldom  seen  in 
his  company.  I  have  seen  her,  and  I  should  say  she 
was  handsome  when  she  was  a  young  woman,  but  she 
has  a  very  sad  face  now." 

"Does  Judge  Lawrence  live  here  the  year  around?55 

"Except  when  he  goes  to  see  about  his  mine." 

"Does  he  go  often?" 

"Two  or  three  times  a  year." 

"Why  doesn't  he  live  out  there?" 

"I  don't  know.    He  does  a  number  of  strange  things, 


The  Tramps  Appear  Again.  83 

as  you  would  discover  if  you  were  to  know  him  bet- 
ter." 

"I  do  not  care  to  know  him  better,"  said  Frank,  as 

i 

he  arose.  "I  thank  you  for  answering  my  questions. 
Come  on,  fellows,  let's  take  a  stroll  about  town." 

And  then,  before  the  young  man  could  satisfy  his 
curiosity  by  propounding  questions  in  return,  Frank 
descended  the  steps,  followed  by  Rattleton,  Diamond 
and  Toots. 

Browning  was  seated  in  a  comfortable  position,  and 
he  yawned. 

"Go  ahead,  if  you  want  to  hoof  it  around.  I  think 
too  much  of  my  shoes  to  wear  them  out  that  way." 

So  the  boys  left  the  hotel  without  him.  They  had 
drawn  on  their  blue  sweaters,  with  a  big  "Y"  on  the 
breast  of  each,  and  they  caused  the  townspeople  to  stare 
as  they  sauntered  about. 

There  was  not  much  of  interest  about  the  village  to 
!  e  seen,  and  they  finally  found  themselves  in  the  vicin- 
ity of  the  railroad  station,  as  a  train  of  freight  cars 
came  in  from  the  East. 

As  the  train  slackened  speed  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
station,  the  door  of  a  car  was  thrust  open,  and  two 


84  The  Tramps  Appear  Again. 

men  came  flying  out,  propelled  by  the  boots  of  some 
trainmen  who  were  in  the  car.  The  men  struck  the 
ground  and  fell  sprawling,  rolled  over,  and  then  got 
upon  their  feet,  where  they  stood,  fierce  language  pour- 
ing from  their  lips,  while  they  shook  their  fists  furi- 
ously in  the  air. 

Frank  Merriwell  saw  the  two  men,  and  started. 
Then  he  looked  closer,  exclaiming:  "So  help  me,  I 
believe  I  know  those  fine  fellows!  I  am  sure  of  it! 
They  are  Joyce  and  Jones,  the  tramps!" 


CHAPTER  V  III. 

A     MYSTERY     SOLVED. 

Frank  was  astonished  by  the  appearance  of  the 
tramps. 

"Hanged  if  it  doesn't  seem  as  if  they  are  chasing 
me  around !"  he  exclaimed.  "I'd  like  to  lodge  them  in 
the  workhouse,  or  State  prison,  where  they  belong." 

"Come,  fellows,"  said  Merriwell,  "let's  follow  them. 
I'd  like  to  give  them  a  drubbing  for  the  little  trick 
they  played  on  me." 

"We  can  do  it  in  great  shape,"  said  Rattleton,  en- 
thusiastically. "I'd  like  to  punch  them  a  few  times 
to  pay  them  for  making  us  ride  back  to  find  you." 

The  tramps  looked  over  their  shoulders,  and,  seeing 
the  boys  coming  after  them,  increased  their  speed, 
turning  down  a  side  street,  running  amid  some  sheds, 
and  quickly  disappearing  from  view. 

"Well,  I  scarcely  think  it  is  any  use  to  attempt  to 
follow  them."  said  Frank.  "We'll  go  back  to  the 
hotel." 


86  A  Mystery  Solved. 

A  good  dinner  made  the  entire  party  feel  better,  but 
none  of  them  felt  like  hurrying  away,  for  the  day  was 
hot  and  uncomfortable.  After  a  consultation,  it  was 
resolved  to  remain  there  till  the  afternoon  became 
cooler. 

Frank  was  restless,  and  he  went  out  alone,  leaving 
the  others  to  remain  around  the  hotel. 

Frank  walked  down  toward  the  place  where  he  had 
last  seen  the  two  tramps.  Something  seemed  to  tell 
him  that  the  ruffians  had  not  arrived  in  that  place  by 
chance. 

There  were  some  sidetracks  about  the  station,  ?/id 
those  tracks  were  well  filled  with  empty  cars.  In  the 
doorway  of  one  of  the  cars  the  boy  saw  a  colored  man 
sitting,  and  he  was  talking  to  a  white  man,  who  was 
standing  on  the  ground.  That  white  man  was  Pink 
Jones,  the  tramp. 

For  some  reason  Frank  felt  a  curiosity  to  hear  what 
the  two  men  were  saying,  and  he  slipped  up  behind  the 
car  till  he  could  catch  some  of  their  words. 

Almost  the  very  first  thing  the  boy  could  under- 
stand made  him  hold  his  breath  with  surprise  and  in- 
terest. 


A  Mystery  Solved.  87 

Jones  was  asking  the  colored  man  about  Judge 
Lawrence. 

How  did  it  happen  that  the  tramp  knew  Judge  Law- 
rence? and  why  should  he  be  seeking  information  con- 
cerning the  judge? 

Frank  hoped  to  overhear  enough  to  explain  this,  but 
he  was  disappointed,  for  Jones  seemed  to  have  learned 
all  he  desired  to  know,  and  he  slouched  away  shortly 
after  the  boy  had  obtained  a  position  to  hear  what  was 
being  said. 

Frank  did  not  attempt  to  interfere  with  the  tramp, 
but  let  him  go,  returning  leisurely  to  the  hotel. 

Less  than  an  hour  later,  happening  to  look  down 
the  street,  he  saw  the  two  tramps  pause  in  front  of 
Lawrence's  handsome  house.  Then,  as  they  stood 
there,  Jones  pointed  out  the  house  and  the  judge's 
office  to  Joyce. 

"Hanged  if  this  isn't  getting  more  and  more  inter- 
esting!" muttered  Merriwell.  "Something  is  in  the 
wind.  I  wonder  if  those  fellows  contemplate  robbing 
the  judge?" 

He  decided  that  they  were  not  planning  anything  of 


88  A  Mystery  Solved. 

the  sort,  for  they  were  much  too  bold  about  their  move- 
ments. 

Then  Frank  took  a  notion  to  follow  the  tramps,  and 
he  shadowed  them  to  the  house  of  a  woman  who  kept 
boarders.  From  a  distance,  he  saw  them  call  the 
woman  to  the  door  and  talk  with  her  some  time.  They 
offered  her  money,  and,  at  last,  she  admitted  them  to 
the  house. 

It  was  by  making  inquiries  that  the  boy  found  the 
woman  sometimes  kept  transient  boarders. 

"They  induced  her  to  keep  them  by  paying  their 
money  in  advance,"  decided  Frank.  "She  did  not  like 
their  appearance  at  first,  and  did  not  want  to  have  them 
in  the  house,  but  the  sight  of  the  money  brought  her 
round." 

Later  in  the  day,  when  the  boys  expressed  their 
readiness  to  resume  their  journey,  they  were  not  a  lit- 
tle surprised  to  hear  Frank  express  a  determination  to 
remain  in  that  place  until  the  following  morning. 

"All  right,"  sighed  Browning,  in  a  contented  way; 
"that  satisfies  me.  You  need  not  hurry  on  my  ac- 
count." 


A  Mystery  Solved.  89 

Then  he  straightway  sought  a  room,  and,  ten  min- 
utes after  being  shown  to  it,  was  snoring  on  the  bed. 

Immediately  after  supper,  without  saying  anything 
to  the  others,  Frank  left  the  hotel. 

He  hastened  to  the  vicinity  of  the  house  where  the 
tramps  had  sought  and  found  lodging. 

Nearly  an  hour  elapsed  before  any  one  came  out, 
and  then,  as  the  door  opened,  the  light  of  the  hall  lamp 
showed  the  boy  that  it  was  the  two  tramps. 

Frank  followed  them,  and  he  saw  them  make  their 
way  directly  to  the  little  office  of  Judge  Lawrence. 

The  inside  shutters  of  the  little  building  were  closed, 
and  there  seemed  to  be  no  one  within ;  but  one  of  the 
tramps  knocked  on  the  door  in  a  peculiar  manner,  and, 
a  moment  later,  the  door  was  opened. 

Then  the  two  men  quickly  entered  the  office. 

As  may  be  imagined,  Frank's  curiosity  was  thor- 
oughly aroused  by  this  time,  for  he  realized  that  the 
door  had  been  opened  in  response  to  a  secret  signal, 
and  that  meant  that  the  tramps  had  been  expected. 
Plainly,  some  person  was  waiting  in  that  office  to  see 
them,  and  who  could  that  person  be,  unless  it  were 
Judge  Lawrence? 


90  A  Mystery  Solved. 

"Here  is  a  mystery !"  muttered  the  boy.  "If  it  was 
Judge  Lawrence,  why  did  he  admit  the  tramps  ?  Why 
is  he  having  dealings  with  such  creatures  ?  I'd  give  a 
few  dollars  to  get  the  real  facts  of  this  affair." 

He  slipped  up  to  the  office,  climbed  the  little  fence 
at  the  corner,  and  crept  noiselessly  around  behind  the 
building.  There,  beneath  a  window,  he  paused.  No 
light  shone  from  that  window,  but  he  distinctly  heard 
the  sound  of  excited  voices. 

The  window  was  higher  than  Frank's  head,  as  the 
little  building  was  set  on  a  high  foundation. 

"Oh,  for  something  to  climb  on — something  that 
will  bring  me  up  where  I  can  hear!"  thought  the  in- 
terested lad. 

He  searched  around  and  found  a  board,  which  he 
leaned  in  a  slanting  position  against  the  building,  di- 
rectly beneath  the  window.  With  the  aid  of  this,  he 
lifted  himself  till  his  head  was  on  a  level  with  the.  lower 
sash. 

Once  there,  Frank  discovered  how  it  was  that  he 
could  hear  the  men  within  so  plainly.  A  bit  of  glass 
was  broken  from  the  corner  of  one  of  the  window 


A  Mystery  Solved.  91 

panes,  and  that  permitted  the  sounds  to  reach  his  ears, 
although  the  inner  shutters  were  tightly  closed. 

Frank  heard  a  man  speaking  excitedly  and  angrily, 
and  he  instantly  recognized  the  voice  as  that  of  Judge 
Lawrence.  The  words  chained  Merriwell's  entire  at- 
tention. 

"I  tell  you  that  you  have  bungled  this  job!"  Law- 
rence was  saying,  in  an  excited  and  angry  growl.  "You 
have  made  a  miserable  mess  of  the  whole  matter." 

"That's  where  ye're  away  off,  jedge,"  said  Pink 
Jones,  his  tone  showing  he  was  exasperated.  "We 
knows  our  biz,  does  Bob  an'  I,  an'  we  cooked  ther 
duck  fer  yez  all  right,  all  right.  Eh,  Bob?" 

"Yer  bet  we  did,"  asseverated  Bob.  "He'll  never 
bodder  you  no  more,  jedge,  an'  we  wants  our  dough." 

"That's  what  we  does,"  from  Jones.  "Yer  prom- 
ised a  hundred  apiece  if  we'd  cook  his  goose,  an'  gave 
us  fifty  each  in  advance.  Now,  we  wants  ther  rest  of 
it,  an'  we  means  ter  have  it.  Yer  can't  play  funny 
wid  us,  jedge." 

A  fierce  exclamation  broke  from  Lawrence's  lips. 

"I  tell  you  that  you  are  bungling  fools !"  he  snarled. 
"How  did  you  do  the  job?" 


92  A  Mystery  Solved. 

"Well,  we  jes'  tied  ther  duck  ter  ther  railroad  track, 
an'  let  him  stay  there  an'  be  chopped  inter  mince-meat 
by  the  night  express.  I  don't  t'ink  he'll  ever  bodder 
yez  much  arter  bein'  chawed  up  by  ther  wheels  of  an 
express  train." 

"Not  a  great  deal,"  agreed  Bob. 

"Did  you  stay  and  see  the  express  train  run  over 
him  ?" 

"Wat  was  ther  use  ?  He  was  tied  fast,  an'  gagged. 
We  didn't  want  ter  be  found  round  them  parts  in  ther 
mornin',  an'  so  we  hoofed  it  in  this  direction." 

There  was  another  snarl  from  Lawrence. 

"That  was  where  you  made  fools  of  yourselves !"  he 
declared.  "I  hired  you  to  make  sure  of  the  job,  as 
Clinton  had  located  me,  and  was  threatening  to  be- 
come troublesome.  You  did  it  in  a  sloppy  way,  and 
it  was  a  fizzle.  Here — here  is  a  note  I  received  this 
very  day.  I  will  read  it,  and  then  you  may  examine 
it  yourself." 

"LYMAN  LAWRENCE  :  Your  dastardly  scheme  to  de- 
stroy me  and  thus  save  yourself  from  my  vengeance 
failed,  and  I  still  live — live  to  square  the  account  with 
you.  Your  murderous  hired  tools  did  tie  me  to  a 


A  Mystery  Solved.  93 

railroad  track  and  leave  me  to  my  fate,  but  I  was  saved 
from  death  in  a  marvelous  manner.  This  makes  me 
feel  that  fate  is  watching  over  me  till  I  shall  avenge 
myself  on  you  for  the  misery  you  have  caused  me. 
By  a  lie  you  robbed  me  of  the  woman  I  loved,  and 
then,  in  fear  of  me,  by  a  lie  you  caused  me  to  be 
thrown  into  a  prison  cell,  where  I  remained  for  years. 
When  I  became  free,  I  started  to  hunt  for  you.  You 
had  vanished,  but  I  located  you  at  last.  Foolishly,  I 
warned  you  of  my  coming,  and  you  sent  your  mur- 
derers out  to  put  me  out  of  the  way.  They  failed. 
And  now  we  shall  meet  face  to  face  very  soon.  When 
we  do,  you  shall  not  escape  me.  With  deepest  hatred, 
"WALLACE  CLINTON/' 


"There,"  cried  Lawrence,  hoarsely — "there  it  is! 
Look  at  it — read  it !  You  can  see  it  is  no  forgery,  for 
how  should  I  know  that  you  tied  him  to  the  track,  so 
that  I  could  put  it  into  writing  to  show  you?  Besides 
that,  I  would  give  two  hundred  dollars — yes,  five  hun- 
dred— this  minute  to  know  Wallace  Clinton  were 
dead !  I  would  not  resort  to  this  sort  of  a  ruse  to  save 
a  paltry  hundred  dollars." 

There  followed  some  moments  of  silence,  and  then 
Bob  was  heard  to  slowly  say :  "Phil,  it  begins  to  look 
like  we  had  made  a  slip." 


94  A  Mystery  Solved. 

Pink  began  to  rave,  using  the  most  shocking  lan- 
guage. 

"It  warn't  our  fault!"  he  cried.  "We  done  our 
part  of  it  all  right.  How  could  the  critter  have  got 
away?" 

"That  I  do  not  know,"  said  Lawrence ;  "but  you  can 
see  that  he  did  get  away,  and  he  is  coming  here.  As 
soon  as  possible,  I  shall  start  for  another  part  of  the 
country.  Now,  I  am  going  to  give  you  chaps  one  more 
chance  to  make  a  pull.  To-night  I  will  pay  you  twen- 
ty-five dollars  each,  providing  you  agree  to  do  your 
best  to  finally  dispose  of  Wallace  Clinton." 

"That  ain't  enough,"  broke  in  Pink. 

"Hold  on,"  sharply  commanded  Lawrence.  "I  am 
not  done.  When  you  bring  me  positive  proof  that 
Clinton  is  dead,  I  will  pay  you  two  hundred  dollars 
each.  You  can't  ask  for  more.  I  want  you  to  agree 
to  lose  no  time  in  completing  the  work." 

"We'll  do  it!"  cried  both  tramps  together.  "You 
won't  have  to  worry  about  that.  We'll  make  sure 
next  time,  an'  ther  duck'll  be  dead  when  we  calls  on 
yer." 

Frank  put  his  mouth  close  to  the  broken  square  of 


A  Mystery  Solved.  95 

glass,  and  distinctly  cried  :  "And  you  will  both  hang  for 
the  job,  together  with  Lyman  Lawrence." 

Then  he  dropped  down  lightly  and  slipped  away 
into  the  dense  darkness,  satisfied  that  he  had  created 
a  sensation  and  filled  the  hearts  of  the  three  villairr 
with  terror. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
FRANK'S  CLOSE  CALL. 

Early  the  following  morning  the  young  tourists 
mounted  their  wheels  and  sped  away  to  the  westward. 

They  crossed  the  Mississippi  into  St.  Louis,  but  did 
not  spend  more  time  there  than  was  required  for  Frank 
to  visit  the  various  newspaper  offices,  at  each  of  which 
he  left  the  following  notice,  to  be  inserted  as  a  paid 
advertisement : 

"WALLACE  CLINTON,  BEWARE! 

"Your  enemy,  the  man  who  hired  tramps  to  tie  you 
to  the  railroad  track,  has  again  bargained  with  those 
ruffians  to  put  you  out  of  the  way.  They  are  to  make 
sure  of  their  work  next  time. 

"THE  ONE  WHO  SAVED  You/' 

"There,"  muttered  the  boy,  when  this  was  done,  "I 
trust  that  will  reach  the  eyes  of  the  man  it  is  intended 
for.  I  know  of  no  other  way  of  warning  him.  Be- 
sides this,  I  have  written  an  unsigned  warning  to 
Lyman  Lawrence,  telling  him  his  murderous  scheme 


Frank's  Close  Call.  97 

is  known,  and  that  he  had  better  drop  it.  That  may 
scare  him  so  he  will  call  his  dogs  off." 

Frank  felt  that  he  could  do  nothing  more.  He  had 
found  how  influential  Lyman  Lawrence  really  was,  and 
he  knew  well  enough  that  it  would  be  impossible  to 
make  the  general  public  believe  such  a  man  could  hire 
tramps  to  murder  a  tramp. 

None  of  the  boys  expected  again  to  see  the  tramps 
or  Judge  Lawrence,  with  whom  they  had  had  such  an 
unpleasant  adventure.  For  two  days  they  pushed  on- 
ward through  Missouri.  At  last,  late  one  afternoon, 
they  found  themselves  making  a  desperate  run  to  reach 
a  certain  town  before  nightfall. 

They  paused  to  inquire  the  shortest  route  of  a  man 
who  was  calmly  smoking  a  corncob  pipe  in  front  of  a 
miserable  hut. 

"Wa-al,"  drawled  the  native,  "raound  by  ther  road 
it  is  a  right  smart  distance,  but  the  railroad  over  yon 
makes  it  straight.  It  ain't  nigh  so  fur  by  ther  railroad. 
Wagon  road  ain't  none  too  good,  either.  I  reckon  it'd 
been  a  heap  sight  better  fer  ye  ef  ye'd  took  ther  train 
back  at  Sagg's  Station,  'stead  of  tryin'  ter  ride  it  on 
them  there  things." 


98  Frank's  Close  Call. 

He  accompanied  his  concluding  words  with  a  look 
if  scorn  toward  the  bicycles. 

"Think  we  can  make  it  before  night?"  asked  Frank. 

"Not  on  them  there  things,  I  judge." 

The  boys  thanked  him,  and  rode  on. 

"It  is  plain  he  has  a  very  poor  opinion  of  bicycles," 
said  Jack. 

Frank  said  nothing,  but  it  was  plain  by  the  expres- 
sion on  his  face  that  he  was  thinking.  Soon  they  came 
to  the  railroad  of  which  the  man  had  spoken. 

Frank  stopped,  dismounted,  and  took  a  look  at  the 
track.  To  his  satisfaction,  he  saw  that  the  cross-ties 
were  buried  almost  on  a  level  with  the. roadbed. 

"I  say,  fellows,"  smiled  Merriwell,  "I'll  wager  you 
that  I  take  the  railroad  and  beat  you  into  town." 

"Oh,  come  off!"  yawned  Bruce.  "You  are  always 
trying  some  such  thing  as  that.  Come  along  with  the 
rest  of  us.  The  road  is  good  enough,  and  you  will 
bump  the  stuffing  out  of  your  wheel  riding  over  the 
ties." 

"I'll  take  my  chances  on  the  wheel,  and  I'll  get  in 
ahead  of  you." 

"The  trouble  with  you  is  that  you  have  the  swelled 


Frank's  Close  Call.  99 

head  because  you  have  beaten  us  once  or  twice  by  tak- 
ing some  unused  road/'  declared  Rattleton.  "Go 
ahead  and  rail  the  ride  road — I  mean  ride  the  railroad ! 
I  am  sticking  to  the  highway." 

"That  is  what  I  want  you  to  do/'  laughed  Frank; 
"and  I  will  beat  you  into  town." 

"This  time  is  where  you  slip  up,  Merry,"  asserted 
Jack  Diamond.  "We'll  beat  you  into  town,  for  you'll 
soon  get  tired  of  bumping  over  the  rails,  and  will  take 
to  footing  it." 

"All  right,  if  you  think  so.     I'll  try  it,  anyway." 

They  found  he  was  determined  to  make  the  attempt 
Then  Toots  -wanted  to  accompany  him,  but  Frank 
would  not  agree  to  that,  saying  he  might  cut  out  a 
pace  that  would  be  too  hot  for  the  colored  boy. 

They  parted,  Frank  mounting  and  riding  along  the 
track  leading  toward  a  range  of  hills  close  at  hand, 
while  the  others  sped  along  the  road. 

Frank  soon  found  that  the  railroad  was  indeed  rough 
in  places.  Then  he  got  out  and  took  to  riding  along 
the  shoulder  of  the  road,  close  to  the  ends  of  the  ties. 
This  was  better,  and  he  made  good  speed. 

The  sun  was  low  in  the  west  when  Frank  reached 


loo  Frank's  Close  Call. 

the  hills.  He  was  surprised  to  see  that  the  range  rose 
like  a  barrier  in  advance,  but  still  the  railroad  ran  on  as 
straight  as  a  die. 

In  a  short  time  he  came  to  the  black  mouth  of  a 
tunnel. 

"Well,  say !  this  is  nice !"  he  cried,  dismounting.  "I 
do  not  mind  riding  in  the  night  without  a  lantern — I 
prefer  it — but  this  is  different.  It  will  be  pocket 
dark  in  there." 

However,  there  seemed  to  be  no  other  way,  and 
Frank  did  not  feel  like  turning  back. 

"This  can't  be  a  long  tunnel,"  he  decided ;  "so  here 
goes." 

He  mounted  and  rode  on  slowly,  but  the  darkness  of 
the  tunnel  seemed  intensified  by  the  change  from  the 
outer  air.  He  crept  along  with  the  utmost  caution, 
like  a  blind  man,  and  then,  after  a  little,  he  dismounted, 
preferring  to  trundle  his  wheel. 

He  had  not  gone  far  before  he  realized  that  he  would 
be  caught  in  an  awkward  place  if  a  train  should  happen 
along.  Still  he  would  not  turn  back. 

Frank  felt  like  a  blind  man  as  he  crept  through  the 
tunnel.  Several  times  he  fancied  he  heard  a  train  ap- 


Frank's  Close  Call.  101 

preaching,  but,  pausing  to  listen,  his  heart  in  his 
mouth,  he  concluded  he  was  deceived. 

Finally  Frank  paused,  suddenly  stooped,  found  the 
rail,  and  placed  his  ear  close  to  it.  What  he  heard  sent 
the  blood  in  an  icy  flood  to  his  heart. 

"A  train  is  coming!"  he  gasped,  as  he  lea-ped  to  his 
feet.  "Which  way?" 

For  a  moment  he  stood  there  like  one  turned  to 
stone,  seeming  unable  to  move.  Then  he  realized  that 
every  moment  was  precious.  He  had -come  far  in  the 
tunnel,  and  it  seemed  that  he  would  stand  a  better 
chance  by  going  ahead.  Besides,  it  seemed  that  the 
train  must  be  behind  him. 

Frank  steadied  his  wheel,  set  the  pedals  right  by 
touch  and  made  ready  to  mount. 

"Now  be  cool,  old  man,"  he  whispered.  "It  is  use- 
less to  get  frightened." 

With  deliberation,  yet  without  loss  of  time,  he 
mounted  his  wheel.  Then  he  increased  his  speed  stead- 
ily and  surely,  seeming  to  find  his  way  along  in  the  in- 
tense darkness  by  instinct. 

His  ears  were  strained  and  his  senses  acute.  Should 
he  find  the  train  was  in  advance,  he  must  turn  about, 


102  Frank's  Close  Call. 

although  there  was  scarce  a  chance  that  he  could  do  so 
and  escape  with  his  life. 

Then,  with  startling  suddenness,  a  roaring  sound 
filled  the  place,  and  he  knew  the  train  had  entered  the 
tunnel ! 

This  knowledge  caused  the  boy  to  send  the  wheel 
spinning  along  at  great  speed,  taking  desperate  chances. 
If  he  should  be  thrown,  it  was  almost  certain  that  he 
would  be  stunned,  and  he  must  remain  on  the  track  to 
be  crushed  by  the  train. 

The  roaring  grew  more  and  more  distinct,  and  Frank 
felt  beyond  a  doubt  that  it  was  behind  him. 

It  was  a  wild  race  for  life  through  the  darkness. 
Would  the  boy  win  ?  or  would  he  meet  a  horrible  death 
there  in  the  tunnel  ? 

He  strained  his  eyes  for  a  glimpse  of  light  in  ad- 
vance. 

All  dark! 

A  feeling  of  horror  and  despair  threatened  to  seize 
upon  Frank,  but  he  fought  it  with  all  his  wonderful 
will. 

He  was  astonished  by  his  fortune  in  keeping  to  the 


Frank's  Close  Call.  103 

track  in  such  intense  darkness,  and  it  almost  seemed 
that  an  unseen  hand  was  guiding  him. 

Within  the  tunnel  the  track  was  remarkably  smooth, 
which  was  a  fortunate  thing  indeed. 

The  roaring  increased,  and  Frank  began  to  feel 
that  the  train  was  overtaking  him  with  appalling  swift- 
ness. He  was  deafened  by  the  volume  of  sound,  and 
it  seemed  that  the  train  must  strike  him  in  another  in- 
stant. 

Still  the  desperate,  panting  lad  exerted  all  his 
strength  in  sending  the  bicycle  flying  along.  He 
would  not  think  of  giving  up  until  the  fatal  crash  came. 

It  seemed  that  he  rode  hours  in  the  darkness  of  the 
tunnel,  with  that  frightful  roar  sounding  in  his  ears. 
In  truth,  it  was  but  a  few  moments,  yet  it  was  not 
strange  that,  in  such  frightful  peril,  every  moment 
should  seem  an  hour. 

Wild  fancies  flitted  through  the  boy's  brain,  and  he 
seemed  to  see  strange  visions.  He  fancied  he  saw  his 
own  mangled  and  lifeless  body  lying  in  the  tunnel  after 
the  train  had  passed. 

A  sudden  gleam  ahead!  It  was  the  opening  of  the 
tunnel. 


104  Frank's  Close  Call. 

With  a  prayer  on  his  lips,  Frank  Merriwell  used  all 
his  remaining  strength  to  send  the  bicycle  flying  like 
the  very  wind  toward  that  welcome  patch  of  light. 
Hope  was  in  his  heart  once  more,  but  still  the  demon 
of  destruction  roared  behind  him. 

And  then — then  Frank  shot  out  into  the  open  air, 
with  the  train  close  upon  him. 

Frank  turned  from  the  track  as  quickly  as  possible, 
bumped  over  the  rail,  shot  down  the  bank,  and  fell  ex- 
hausted from  his  wheel,  the  train  whizzing  past. 

For  a  long  time  the  boy  lay  there  beside  the  track. 
A  prayer  of  thankfulness  escaped  his  lips.  He  watched 
the  day  turned  to  dusky  night,  the  red  light  dying  out 
of  the  west  with  remarkable  swiftness. 

"Come!"  he  muttered,  at  last;  "this  will  not  do." 

He  arose,  but  his  knees  were  still  weak.  After  a 
little,  he  picked  up  the  bicycle,  brought  it  back  to  the 
track,  and  mounted. 

Then  he  rode  onward,  wondering  how  far  it  could 
be  to  the  town  where  he  was  to  meet  his  friends. 

"They  will  be  there  ahead  of  me,  but  I  do  not  care," 
he  said.  "I  may  consider  myself  fortunate  to  get  there 
at  all." 


Frank's  Close  Call.  105 

He  rode  slowly.  The  track  ran  through  a  valley, 
where  it  soon  became  very  dark. 

As  Frank  was  riding  along  he  saw  a  gleam  of  light 
ahead,  and  heard  the  ring  of  iron  upon  iron.  Then 
he  saw  some  dark  forms  in  the  gleam  of  a  lantern,  and 
they  seemed  to  be  at  work  on  the  track. 

"Repairing,"  muttered  Frank.  "There  must  be 
something  the  matter  with  the  track  that  causes  them 
to  work  so  late." 

Then  he  saw  that  a  rail  was  loose  close  by  him. 

Groaning,  the  boy  fell  back. 

"It  is  too  late !     I  cannot  stop  the  train !" 

There  was  a  frightful  sound  of  splintering,  crashing 
wood  and  iron,  and  then  an  awful  silence,  followed  by 
shrieks  and  groans. 

The  train  was  wrecked ! 

Staggering  forward,  he  looked  down  on  a  scene  of 
destruction,  where,  in  the  darkness,  the  engine  and 
cars  were  piled  in  a  shapeless  mass  beside  the  track. 

Men  had  crept  out  of  the  ruins.  A  few  had  found 
lanterns  and  were  moving  about,  calling  wildly  to  each 
other. 

Frank  ran  to  the  mass  of  wrecked  cars,  resolved  to 


106  Frank's  Close  Call. 

Ho  what  he  could  to  save  human  life.  Soon  he  was 
working  with  others  amid  the  ruins  of  the  train. 

As  he  worked,  with  the  aid  of  a  lantern  which  one 
of  the  trainmen  had  secured  from  the  wreck,  he  was 
astounded  to  feel  himself  clutched  by  strong  hands 
and  see  a  blood-spattered  face  held  close  to  his,  while 
a  hoarse  voice  shouted: 

"Where  is  he?  You  know  him!  Where  is  he? 
Have  you  seen  him  ?" 

At  first  the  boy  thought  it  must  be  some  passenger, 
crazed  by  his  injuries,  and  seeking  a  friend  who  had 
been  on  the  train. 

"Be  calm,"  he  said.     "We  will  find  him." 

"I  must  find  him!"  almost  shrieked  the  man.  "I 
knew  he  was  on  this  train,  and  I  clung  beneath  the  car 
on  which  he  rode  that  he  might  not  escape  me.  He 
knew  I  was  near,  and  that  is  why  he  took  to  flight. 
He  feared  me — he  feared  my  vengeance !" 

Frank  grasped  the  light  from  the  hand  of  the  man 
at  his  side,  and  held  it  close  to  the  blood-stained  face. 

"Wallace  Clinton!"  he  shouted,  amazed.  "Baldy 
Briggs,  the  tramp!  You  here?" 

"Yes,  I  am  here,"  was  the  hoarse  response.     "I  fol- 


Frank's  Close  Call.  107 

lowed  him!  He  is  here  somewhere  amid  the  wreck. 
I  saw  your  notice  in  the  papers,  and  I  learned  that  you 
knew  him." 

"Lyman  Lawrence?" 

"Yes." 

"And  he  was  on  this  train  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  he  may  be  a  dead  man  now." 

They  searched  amid  the  ruins,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  they  came  upon  the  man  for  whom  Wallace 
Clinton  was  looking.  Judge  Lawrence  was  there,  pin- 
ned down  by  a  great  weight,  his  face  ghastly  pale, 
dying  from  his  frightful  injuries. 

Clinton  caught  the  lantern,  held  it  close  to  his  own 
face,  and  dropped  on  his  knees  beside  his  foe. 

"Look,  Lyman  Lawrence!"  he  shouted,  wildly — 
"look  into  my  face !  Open  your  eyes !  Do  you  know 
me?" 

With  a  moan  of  pain,  the  wretched  man  looked. 
What  he  saw  did  not  seem  to  fill  him  with  fear,  but  he 
faintly  said: 

"Yes,  I  know  you ;  you  are  the  man  I  wronged — the 
friend  I  betrayed.  Laura  still  lives,,  but  she  has  de- 


io8  Frank's  Close  Call. 

spised  me  ever  since  she  learned  how  I  won  her  for 
my  wife  by  making  her  believe  you  were  false  to  her. 
I  believe  she  loves  you  still.  I  feared  you,  for  I  knew 
you  were  mad  for  vengeance  when  you  learned  of  my 
treachery.  Then  it  was  that  I  plotted  and  caused  you 
to  be  thrown  into  prison.  But  now  my  punishment 
has  come!" 

He  ceased  from  pure  exhaustion.  Clinton  was  si- 
lent, his  wildness  having  passed  away  with  the  sight 
of  his  enemy.  After  a  brief  pause,  Lawrence  went  on : 

"I  did  hire  men  to  destroy  you,  Clinton.  They 
failed.  I  am  glad  of  that  now.  This — this  is  my  just 
reward!  I  am  dying — dying  far  from  my  wife  who 
never  truly  loved  me,  and  the  child  who  has  ever  feared 
me!  All  my  property  will  fall  to  that  wife  and  child. 
Go  to  her,  Clinton;  she  will  be  happy  to  see  you  once 
again.  Promise  me  that  you  will  go  to  her." 

"If  I  can — if  I  can!"  whispered  Clinton,  huskily. 

"That's  all — that's  all !"  whispered  the  unfortunate 
wretch.  "You  will  not  be  molested  now.  When  I  am 
dead  there  will  be  no  reason  why  any  one  should  harm 
you.  This — this  is  retribution!" 

His  face  showed  how  much  he  suffered  mentally. 


Frank's  Close  Call.  109 

A  strange  change  had  come  over  Wallace  Clinton. 
No  longer  was  he  fierce  for  vengeance.  Something 
like  compassion  came  into  his  eyes  as  he  watched  his 
dying  enemy. 

Suddenly  the  dying  man  turned  and  clutched  Clin- 
ton's hand,  almost  shrieking: 

"I  am  lost— lost !  I  know  it— I  feel  it !  Yet  I  shall 
die  easier  if  I  hear  you  say  you  forgive  me!  For — the 
— love — of — Heaven — say — it !" 

Clinton  was  silent,  but  it  seemed  that  a  great  battle 
was  taking  place  within  his  soul. 

"For — the — love — of — Laura  —  say — it!"  huskily 
pleaded  the  dying  man. 

"Lyman  Lawrence,"  said  Wallace  Clinton,  solemnly, 
"I  forgive  you !" 

A  thankful  sigh,  a  murmured  prayer,  a  gasp,  and  the 
end  had  come.  All  was  over. 

It  was  not  until  early  morning  that  Frank  rejoined 
his  chums  at  the  nearby  town. 

When  they  heard  of  his  adventure  they  were  more 
than  astonished. 

"It  beats  the  Dutch!"  said  Diamond.  "I  can't  see 
how  you  got  out  of  the  tunnel  alive." 


no  Frank's  Close  Call. 

Long  afterward  the  boys  heard  that  Wallace  Clin- 
ton had  married  Lyman  Lawrence's  widow  and  both 
were  truly  happy. 

What  became  of  the  two  tramps,  Pink  and  Bob,  the 
boys  never  knew. 

After  this  the  days  went  by  swiftly,  and  soon  the 
bicycle  boys  found  themselves  crossing  the  mighty 
Mississippi  and  pedaling  their  way  across  the  State  of 
Missouri. 

"I  hope  we  have  no  more  adventures,"  said  Harry. 
"I've  had  wall  I  ant — no,  all  I  want." 

"Dun  yo'  say  a  word,"  came  from  Toots.  "We 
ain't  out  ob  de  woods  yet,  not  by  a  long  shot,  no,  sah !" 

And  Toots'  words  proved  true,  as  the  very  next 
chapter  will  show. 


CHAPTER  X. 

A   THRILLING   ADVENTURE. 

Crash!  crash!  crash! 

"Fo*  de  Lawd's  sakes,  what  am  dat?"  cried  Toots, 
nearly  falling  from  his  bicycle  in  sudden  alarm,  as  the 
crashing  sounds  came  from  amid  the  thick  bushes  of 
the  woods  through  which  the  party  was  riding. 

Crash !  crash !  crash ! 

The  bushes  shook,  and  small  trees  bent  and  swayed. 

"Great  Scott!"  spluttered  Harry.  "It  must  be  a 
cy  smallcone — I  mean  a  small  cyclone!" 

"Thank  fortune  I'm  fat!"  murmured  Bruce.  "It 
won't  be  able  to  pick  me  up  and  carry  me  off  with  ease." 

"It  is  some  kind  of  a  creature — an  animal,  and  a 
huge  one,  at  that!"  exclaimed  Jack.  "Look  out  for 
it!" 

"It's  an  elephant !"  rang  out  tne  voice  of  Frank,  who 
was  leisurely  riding  along  behind  the  others.  "See — 
here  he  comes !" 

Sure  enough  out  of  the  timber  rushed  a  huge  ele- 


H2  A  Thrilling  Adventure. 

phant,  its  small  eyes  glaring  wickedly,  its  trunk  tossing 
convulsively,  and  its  whole  aspect  denoting  wild  ex- 
citement and  rage. 

The  moment  the  monster  saw  the  boys,  who  were 
slowly  riding  past,  he  elevated  his  trunk  and  trumpeted 
shrilly. 

"Horn  ob  Gabrul !"  howled  Toots,  as  he  leaned  for- 
ward over  the  handlebars  and  literally  caused  his  wheel 
to  jump  forward.  "If  dat  dar  elumfunt  done  cotch 
me,  Fs  a  daid  nigger!" 

"An  elephant — an  elephant  running  wild — out  here 
— in  Missouri !"  palpitated  Diamond.  "Is  this  an  opti- 
cal illusion?" 

"An  elephant!"  exclaimed  Merriwell.  "Are  we  in 
the  United  States,  or  India?" 

"I  wouldn't  mind  being  in  the  next  county  about 
now!"  confessed  Browning,  as  he  increased  his  speed. 

The  boys  flew  past  the  great  beast,  which  came  lum- 
bering into  the  road  in  an  awkward  manner,  continu- 
ing its  shrill  cries. 

"We  can  run  away  from  him  easy  enough,"  said 
Rattleton. 

"We  can  run  away  from  him  on  our  wheels,  but  you 


A  Thrilling  Adventure.  113 

will  find  he  can  make  pretty  good  speed,  in  case  he 
comes  after  us,"  Frank  declared. 

"He's  coming !"  cried  Jack,  who  had  looked  back. 

This  was  true.  As  soon  as  the  elephant  reached  the 
road,  he  turned  in  pursuit  of  the  boys,  the  sight  of 
whom  had  seemed  to  arouse  the  creature  to  a  perfect 
frenzy. 

"Well,  this  is  a  most  remarkable  adventure!"  mut- 
tered Frank.  "I  anticipated  that  nearly  all  sorts  of 
things  would  take  place  during  our  trip,  but  this  is 
something  I  did  not  dream  of  at  all." 

"How  does  it  happen  that  elephants  are  running  wild 
in  the  forests  of  Missouri?"  gurgled  Bruce,  as  he 
puffed  along  heavily. 

"Don't  ask  me!"  cried  Harry,  who  was  at  the  big 
college  lad's  side.  "I'll  never  tell!" 

"I  don't  believe  dat  am  no  elumfunt,"  flung  back 
the  colored  boy.  "Dat  am  one  ob  dem  dar  mastydoons 
I  hear  Prof.  Scotch  tell  ob  one  time." 

"A  mastodon  wouldn't  have  surprised  me  more  than 
this  elephant,"  confessed  Browning. 

"And  this  elephant  is  on  the  rampage,"  said  Jack. 
"He  is  out  for  trouble,  that  is  sure  enough." 


U4  A  Thrilling  Adventure. 

The  boys  were  not  hurrying,  with  the  exception  of 
Toots,  who  had  scooted  ahead  swiftly,  but,  of  a  sud- 
den, Frank  cried: 

"Scoot,  fellows — scoot!     He  is  running  us  down!" 

It  was  true  that  the  huge  beast  was  close  upon  them, 
and  he  was  coming  along  the  road  at  wonderful  speed, 
which  seemed  to  increase  with  each  moment.  The 
ground  really  seemed  to  tremble  beneath  his  ponderous 
tread. 

"Wheejiz!"  gasped  Rattleton.  "I  didn't  suppose 
one  of  those  creatures  could  run  like  that !" 

"They  can  cover  ground  in  great  shape  when  they 
have  open  territory,  my  boy,"  said  Frank. 

"What  if  one  of  us  should  puncture  a  tire  now?" 
gasped  Browning,  perspiration  suddenly  starting  out 
in  great  beads  on  his  face. 

"It  would  be  rather  unfortunate,"  said  Frank, 
gravely. 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Diamond.  "The  elephant 
would  trample  him  flat  in  less  than  three  seconds." 

"I  propose  to  get  out  of  this,"  said  Rattleton. 
"Toots  is  the  only  one  who  has  sense  enough  to  hustle." 

Still  filled  with  wonder  by  the  astonishing  appearance 


A  Thrilling  Adventure.  115 

of  the  elephant,  the  boys  wheeled  onward  at  greater 
speed,  and  soon  rode  out  of  the  strip  of  timber. 

The  great  beast  continued  to  follow. 

Toots,  in  advance,  came  to  a  place  where  the  road 
forked.  Without  hesitation,  he  took  the  right-hand 
road. 

Frank  still  kept  his  place  behind  his  companions, 
which  was  a  point  of  some  peril;  but  that  peril  was 
swiftly  growing  less  and  less,  for  the  party  was  draw- 
ing away  from  the  pursuing  animal. 

Rattleton  was  next  to  Toots,  and  just  as  he  reached 
the  point  where  the  road  divided,  the  very  accident  the 
boys  had  feared  took  place. 

Pop — swish!     Then  his  rear  tire  collapsed. 

"A  puncture!"  he  shouted,  as  he  leaped  from  his 
wheel,  and  let  it  fall  beside  the  road.  What  a  scrape !" 

Browning  and  Diamond  flew  past  Rattleton  before 
they  could  slacken  the  speed  of  their  wheels. 

The  pursuing  elephant  trumpeted  loudly  in  a  trium- 
phant manner,  as  if  aware  of  the  nature  of  the  acci- 
dent and  confident  of  securing  a  victim  on  which  to 
vent  his  wrath. 

Harry  turned  pale  as  he  cast  a  look  backward  and 


n6  A  Thrilling  Adventure. 

saw  the  dirty-brown  body  of  the  enraged  beast  that 
was  lumbering  along  the  road  in  pursuit  of  the  party. 

"I'm  in  for  it!"  he  gasped,  and  his  knees  felt  weak 
beneath  him. 

But  Merriwell  had  not  passed.  He  seemed  to  be  on 
the  watch  for  the  accident  that  had  taken  place,  and, 
with  wonderful  agility,  he  leaped  to  the  ground,  bring- 
ing his  wheel  to  a  stop. 

"Ready,  Harry!"  he  cried,  clearly.  "This  wheel 
must  carry  us  both !" 

"How'll  we  trick  the  do — er,  do  the  trick  ?"  excitedly 
asked  Rattleton. 

"You  must  run  along  beside  me,  as  I  get  a  fresh 
start,  and  then  leap  to  my  back  when  I  give  the  word. 
It  is  the  only  way." 

"All  right." 

"Ready?" 

"Yes." 

Frank  started  his  wheel  at  a  run,  vaulted  to  the 
saddle,  his  feet  catching  the  pedals  in  a  moment. 

Harry  ran  along  at  the  same  moment,  and  a  glance 
backward  caused  his  heart  to  leap  in  a  convulsive 
manner. 


A  Thrilling  Adventure.  117 

"The  elephant  is  right  upon  us,  Frank!"  he  cried. 

"Ready  to  jump!"  called  Merriwell,  steadily,  as 
once  more  the  ground  seemed  to  quiver  beneath  the 
feet  of  the  pursuing  beast. 

"All  ready !"  Harry  flung  back. 

"Now — jump !" 

Following  directly  behind  Merriwell,  Harry  made  a 
spring  into  the  air. 

Frank  had  stooped  forward  and  braced  himself  for 
the  shock,  but,  despite  the  fact  that  he  knew  what  was 
coming,  he  was  nearly  thrown  from  the  wheel  as  Rat- 
tleton  alighted  like  a  monkey  on  his  back. 

Another  wild  blast  came  from  the  elephant,  and  it 
told  that  the  great  creature  was  close  behind. 

"Can  you  do  it,  Merry?"  asked  Harry,  his  voice 
shaking  somewhat.  "If  you  can't,  say  so,  and  I  will 
drop  off.  It  is  better  that  one  of  us  should  be  killed 
than  that  I  should  cause  the  death  of  both." 

"Cling  fast !"  came  over  Merriwell's  shoulder.  "We 
are  all  right  now.  He  can't  overtake  us!" 

At  first,  however,  it  seemed  that  the  monster  would 
do  so,  and  Rattleton  expected  to  be  torn  from  Mer- 
riwell's  back  at  any  moment.  It  was  not  long  before 


n8  A  Thrilling  Adventure. 

they  were  spinning  along  at  a  speed  that  was  sure  tc 
keep  them  beyond  the  animal's  reach. 

"We  have  taken  the  wrong  road,"  said  Harry. 
"The  boys  went  the  other  way." 

"That's  right,"  said  Frank.  "I  did  not  notice  it  till 
it  was  too  late  to  take  the  other  road." 

"I  don't  mind  that  if  we  can  get  away  from  the  old 
rogue  behind  us,  and  it  begins  to  look  as  if  we  might." 

"We'll  get  away,  although  this  does  not  seem  to  be 
a  very  good  strip  of  road.  He  can't  overtake " 

"Look  there!" 

Harry  interrupted  with  the  cry,  and,  looking  ahead, 
Frank  saw  something  that  seemed  to  turn  the  blood 
cold  in  his  veins. 

A  short  distance  in  advance  there  had  been  a  plank 
bridge  across  a  small  stream,  but  now  the  planks  were 
all  torn  up  by  three  men,  who,  it  was  plain,  were  at 
work  constructing  a  new  bridge. 

Of  the  new  bridge  the  stringers  had  been  placed  on 
the  supports,  but  not  a  plank  was  in  place! 

The  stream  was  not  very  wide,  but  it  was  wide 
enough  to  cause  the  boys  to  feel  intense  alarm,  for 


A  Thrilling  Adventure.  119 

they  knew  the  elephant  must  overtake  them  if  they  dis- 
mounted to  cross. 

A  clear,  ringing  shout  broke  from  Merriwell's  lips, 
attracting  the  attention  of  the  laborers  at  the  bridge. 

The  elephant  seemed  to  answer  that  shout  with  a 
shrill  note. 

The  laborers  looked  up  and  stared  stupidly,  as  if 
they  doubted  the  evidence  of  their  eyes. 

"Look  out!"  cried  Frank.  "The  elephant  is  mad! 
Run  for  your  lives!  Run,  or  he  will  kill  you!" 

One  of  the  men  awoke  from  his  lethargy,  and  im- 
mediately took  to  his  heels,  shouting  some  words  to  his 
companions. 

Frank  did  not  abate  his  speed  in  the  least,  but,  if 
anything,  sent  the  wheel  flying  faster  than  ever. 

"Frank,  Frank,  are  you  crazy?"  gasped  Harry. 

"No." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?    The  bridge  is  down!" 

"I  see  it  is." 

"Stop !     We  will  have  to  dismount  to  get  across." 

"If  we  dismount,  we'll  not  get  across." 

"Then  how " 


120  A  Thrilling  Adventure. 

"Cling  fast !  It  is  our  only  show  for  getting  across 
at  all." 

Straight  at  the  bridge  flew  the  bicycle,  carrying  its 
double  burden.  Harry  gasped  for  breath,  beginning 
to  think  Frank  had  lost  his  senses  entirely. 

By  this  time  the  remaining  laborers  realized  their 
peril,  and  they  were  running  from  the  spot  as  fast  as 
their  legs  would  take  them. 

In  a  moment  the  stream  was  reached.  Out  on  one 
of  the  stringers  darted  the  bicycle,  where  to  swerve 
two  or  three  inches  at  most  must  mean  a  disastrous 
plunge — a  terrible  catastrophe. 

Straight  as  an  arrow  the  bicycle  sped  along  the  nar- 
row stringer,  and  the  farthermost  bank  of  the  stream 
was  reached  almost  before  Harry  Rattleton  could  un- 
derstand what  had  taken  place. 

"Hurrah!"  cried  Frank,  with  relief.  "We  did  the 
trick,  old  man!" 

Again  Rattleton  gasped  for  breath. 

"Gand  of  loodness — I  mean  land  of  goodness!"  he 
palpitated.  "How  did  you  do  it,  Merry — how  could 
you?" 

"Had  to  do  it,"  was  the  cheerful  answer.     "A  fel- 


A  Thrilling  Adventure.  121 

low  can  do  almost  anything  when  he  has  to,  you. 
know." 

"But — how  did  you  dare  to  try  it,  Frank?" 
"Dare!     What  was  there  to  dare?     It  was  far  more 
dangerous  not  to  try  it.     This  was  a  case  of  must." 
"I'd  never  thought  of  trying  such  a  thing — never!" 
Frank  laughed.     It  was  his  old  reckless  laugh — the; 
laugh  that  escaped  his  lips  in  times  of  peril. 

"Well,  we  are  over  the  stream  all  right,"  he  said; 
"but  those  workmen  may  have  to  suffer  when  the  ele- 
phant arrives." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

AN    OLD   FOE. 

No  longer  could  the  boys  hear  the  shrill  trumpet- 
ings  of  the  pursuing  monster,  and,  looking  to  the  left, 
they  saw  one  of  the  laborers  had  halted  and  was  star- 
ing back  toward  the  stream. 

"What's  up?"  asked  Frank,  curiously.  "What  has 
happened  back  there?  Is  the  elephant  still  in  pur- 
suit?" 

Harry  managed  to  turn  his  head  about  till  he  could 
look  over  his  shoulder,  and  then  he  said : 

"No;  the  elephant  has  stopped  at  the  stream.  He 
is  drinking.  Hold  on,  Frank.  Let's  stop  and  see 
what  he  will  do.  We  have  a  good  start,  and  we  can 
mount  and  get  away  before  he  can  reach  us,  in  case  he 
starts  after  us  again." 

Frank  was  ready  to  stop,  and  so  Harry  dropped 
'down,  and  the  two  lads  soon  were  on  their  feet.  They 
looked  back,  and  saw  that  the  elephant  had  stopped  at 


An  Old  Foe.  123 

the  stream,  where  he  was  now  drawing  up  water  with 
his  trunk,  and  squirting  it  over  his  back. 

"The  water  seems  to  have  cooled  his  fury,"  observed 
Frank.  "He  acts  as  if  he  has  quite  forgotten  us." 

"I  hope  he  continues  to  remain  forgetful,"  said 
Harry,  producing  a  handkerchief  and  mopping  his 
face.  "Goodness!  but  this  has  been  something  aw- 
ful!" 

"It  has  been  rather  invigorating,"  smiled  Merriwell. 
"I  wonder  what  sort  of  a  racket  we  will  run  up  against 
next." 

"I  am  ready  for  anything  after  this,"  declared 
Harry.  "Whose  pet  do  you  suppose  that  is,  Frank?" 

"Haven't  an  idea.  I  don't  see  any  ribbon  around 
its  neck." 

"No,  not  so  much  as  a  string." 

The  boys  now  devoted  themselves  to  watching  the 
elephant.  The  huge  beast  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
them  entirely.  After  squirting  water  over  its  back 
for  a  time,  it  contented  itself  with  pulling  down  the 
stringers  of  the  bridge,  which  caused  the  laborers  at 
a  distance  to  utter  some  violent  language. 

After  a  short  time  several  horsemen  were  seen  com- 


124  An  Old  Foe. 

ing  rapidly  along  the  road,  their  appearance  indicating 
that  they  might  be  in  pursuit  of  the  elephant. 

As  soon  as  the  horsemen  saw  the  old  fellow  they 
drew  up  and  approached  with  caution.  There  were  at 
least  a  dozen  of  them,  and,  within  five  minutes,  a  cart 
came  tearing  along  the  road,  drawn  by  two  foaming, 
'dust-covered  horses.  The  horses  were  driven  by  a 
man  who  was  standing  erect  and  swinging  a  long  whip, 
which  he  cracked  about  the  animals'  ears,  every  crack 
Sounding  like  the  report  of  a  pistol. 

"They  are  after  the  elephant,  sure  enough,"  said 
Frank.  "It  must  be  that  the  old  fellow  escaped  from 
some  circus.  Let's  join  them,  and  see  how  they  go 
to  work  to  capture  the  beast." 

"All  right,"  agreed  Harry,  who  was  ready  to  follow 
Frank  anywhere.  "But  we'll  have  to  be  careful." 

"Oh,  we'll  not  go  up  and  twist  the  elephant's  tail," 
laughed  Merry. 

"Not  that  kind  of  an  elephant,  although  we  have 
tailed  the  elephant's  twist — I  mean  we  have  twisted  the 
elephant's  tail  in  New  Haven  more  than  once." 

The  men  were  surrounding  the  great  beast,  which 
paid  not  the  slightest  attention  to  them.  The  work- 


An  Old  Foe.  125 

men  came  down  and  joined  the  others,  excitedly  an- 
swering a  hundred  questions,  a  few  of  which  were  an- 
swered. 

These  answers  were  enough  to  let  the  boys  know 
they  were  right  in  supposing  the  elephant  had  escaped 
from  a  circus  company,  which  was  to  perform  that  day 
in  a  nearby  town. 

One  of  the  pursuers  was  the  elephant's  trainer,  and 
his  name  was  Tom  Pearson.  He  was  giving  orders  to 
the  others,  and  he  harshly  told  the  three  laborers  to 
keep  out  of  the  way,  as  they  might  get  hurt  if  they 
took  too  much  interest  in  things.  The  boys  he  did  not 
seem  to  notice. 

The  wagon  had  brought  great  ropes  and  irons  for 
binding  the  elephant,  and  these  were  in  charge  of  three 
men,  who  awaited  orders  from  Pearson. 

The  elephant  quitted  the  bed  of  the  stream,  lum- 
bered up  the  bank,  and  made  his  way  to  a  tree,  against 
which  he  lazily  rubbed  his  body.  The  water  had 
seemed  to  pacify  the  old  fellow  in  a  most  remarkable 
manner,  and  yet  Tom  Pearson  continued  to  caution 
his  assistants  not  to  be  too  careless  in  approaching  the 
beast. 


126  An  Old  Foe. 

A  little  furnace  had  been  brought  along  in  the 
wagon.  This  was  taken  out  and  set  up  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible. Then  a  fire  was  lighted  in  it,  and  some  wicked- 
looking  irons  were  being  heated  in  the  fire. 

"I  wonder  what  they  are  going  to  do  with  them?" 
speculated  Harry. 

"The  trainer  means  to  use  them  to  subdue  the  ele- 
phant," explained  Frank.  "Sometimes  it  is  the  only 
way  old  rogues  can  be  conquered." 

"Use  hot  irons?  Goodness!  Such  a  thing  is  far- 
barously  biendish — I  mean  barbarously  fiendish !" 

"It  does  seem  rather  tough,  but  old  trainers  say  many 
elephants  require  a  good  dose  of  hot  irons  at  least  once 
a  year." 

From  the  talk  of  the  men,  the  boys  learned  that  the 
name  of  the  elephant  was  Napoleon,  and  that  he  had 
killed  one  trainer  a  year  before.  On  this  occasion, 
he  had  broken  the  back  of  a  horse,  and  then  torn  down 
one  of  the  smaller  tents  before  escaping. 

That  the  country  roundabout  knew  of  the  escape  was 
apparent,  for  men  and  boys  were  arriving  constantly, 
the  most  of  them  eager  to  assist  in  capturing  Na- 
poleon. 


An  Old  Foe.  127 

The  younger  boys  kept  at  a  distance  as  far  as  pos- 
sible, while  the  older  lads  and  the  men  were  warned  of 
the  danger  of  the  undertaking,  and  informed  that  they 
were  taking  their  own  risk  in  approaching. 

Napoleon  seemed  docile  now,  and  it  was  difficult  to 
believe  that  he  was  really  dangerous. 

The  tree  was  surrounded,  and  the  circle  drew  in 
upon  the  huge  animal,  moving  slowly. 

"Which  o'  you  fellers  is  Frank  Merriwell?"  asked 
a  boy,  as  he  approached  the  two  Yale  lads. 

"That  is  my  name,"  assured  Frank. 

"Then  you  are  the  feller  this  is  for." 

The  boy  held  out  a  slip  of  paper,  which  Frank  toolc 
with  some  surprise. 

"Who  gave  you  this?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  a  feller  over  yander,"  was  the  answer,  as  the 
boy  jerked  his  thumb  toward  the  wagon.  "He  asked 
me  to  take  it  to  one  of  you  fellers  that  wuz  named 
Frank  Merriwell,  an'  he  give  me  a  quarter." 

The  boy  displayed  the  money,  with  great  satisfac- 
tion, as  he  added: 

"This  will  take  me  to  the  circus." 

Frank  unfolded  the  slip  of  paper,  on  which  were  a 


128  An  Old  Foe. 

few  penciled  words  written  in  a  hasty  scrawl  with  a  lead 
pecil.     This  is  what  he  read : 

"Look   out   for  yourself,    Frank   Merriwell.     You 
have  enemies  near  at  hand,  and  they  will  not  hesi- 
,    tate  to  injure  you.  A  FRIEND." 

Prank  whistled. 

""Hello !  hello !"  he  muttered.     "I  wonder  what  this 
means  ?" 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Harry. 

Frank  handed  over  the  note,  which  Harry  proceeded 
to  read.     When  he  had  done  so,  he  cried : 

"What  sort  of  bunny  fizriess — I  mean  what  sort  of 
funny  business  is  this?" 

"That  is  what  I'd  like  to  know/'  admitted  Merri- 
well. 
I    "Is  it  a  jolly?" 

"You  tell." 

"Why  should  you  have  enemies  near  at  hand?" 

"Give  it  up,  but  I  seem  to  have  them  everywhere." 

Frank  took  the  note  and  studied  it  a  few  seconds. 
Then  he  said : 

"I  believe  I  know  this  writing,  for  it  looks  natural, 


An  Old  Foe.  129 

but  I  can't  tell  when  and  where  I've  seen  writing  like 
it." 

"Bah !"  exclaimed  Rattleton.  "Don't  take  any  stock 
in  it.  It  is  some  sort  of  a  game ;  but  how  any  one  out 
here  should  know  your  name  is  what  sticks  me." 

"It  is  a  mystery." 

"Find  out  who  sent  this." 

"I  will.     Where  is  the  boy  that  brought  it?" 

But  they  looked  around  in  vain  for  the  youngster, 
who  had  vanished  while  they  were  talking. 

"He's  gone." 

"That's  what  he  has,"  nodded  Harry;  "and  that 
makes  me  think  all  the  more  that  it  is  some  sort  of  a 
game." 

"Well,  I  will  keep  this  note  to  look  over  when  I  get 
a  chance  to  do  so.  Just  now  I  am  interested  to  see  how 
they  are  going  to  recapture  the  elephant." 

Frank  thrust  the  note  into  his  pocket,  and,  within  a 
minute,  had  quite  forgotten  about  the  mysterious  warn- 
ing. 

The  elephant  was  surrounded,  and  Fearson  was 
working  to  get  the  old  fellow  snared  with  one  of  the 
stout  cables.  The  cable  was  attached  to  the  tree,  near 


130  An  Old  Foe. 

which  the  elephant  had  been  a  short  time  before,  and 
then,  with  a  long,  sharp-pointed  iron,  the  trainer 
charged  in  on  the  great  beast. 

The  elephant  saw  Pearson  coming,  and  turned  pon- 
derously. As  he  turned,  Pearson  darted  nimbly  past, 
and  a  loop  of  the  great  rope  was  cast  about  the  crea- 
ture's leg. 

Then  the  trainer  drove  the  sharp  iron  into  the  beast's 
thick  hide,  and  fled  for  his  life. 

With  a  hoarse  note  of  fury,  Napoleon  started  in  pur- 
suit of  the  man.  In  a  moment  he  reached  the  end  of 
the  cable,  and  then  came  a  shock,  for  the  elephant  was 
flung  to  the  ground  with  a  jarring  thud. 

Again  Pearson  rushed  forward,  but  he  had  been 
drinking,  as  Frank  had  observed,  and,  making  a  mis- 
step, he  stumbled  and  fell. 

The  elephant  was  scrambling  up,  and  the  trainer  lay 
as  if  stunned.  Not  one  of  the  circus  men  offered  to  go 
to  his  aid. 

Instantly  Frank  Merriwell  broke  through  the  line, 
leaped  forward,  lifted  the  man  to  his  feet,  and  sent 
him  spinning  out  of  the  reach  of  danger. 

Then  it  was  that  Frank  found  another  person  at  his 


An  Old  Foe.  131 

shoulder;  then  it  was  that  he  saw  and  recognized  one 
of  his  bitterest  enemies  of  Yale ;  then  it  was  that  he  re- 
ceived a  thrust  that  was  half  a  blow,  and  that  thrust 
sent  him  reeling  to  fall  within  a  few  yards  of  the  once 
more  infuriated  old  rogue. 

The  elephant  was  getting  up,  and  its  ugly  little  eyes 
were  fastened  on  the  fallen  boy.  He  had  decided  that 
Frank  should  become  a  victim,  and  it  seemed  that  Mer- 
riwell  would  not  find  it  easy  to  escape. 

But  Harry  Rattleton  had  seen  Frank  rush  forward 
to  the  trainer's  rescue,  and  he  had  not  been  slow  to  fol- 
low. He  had  seen  another  person  rush  forward,  and 
he  had  seen  that  other  person  give  Frank  a  savage 
thrust. 

A  cry  of  rage  broke  from  Rattleton's  lips,  and  then 
he  leaped  toward  his  fallen  comrade. 

Frank  was  trying  to  rise  quickly,  but  he  felt  himself 
lifted  with  a  snap,  swung  about,  and  literally  carried 
from  the  spot. 

Napoleon,  wildly  venting  his  rage,  rushed  after  the 
boys,  but  again  he  brought  up  at  the  end  of  the  cable, 
and  again  he  was  thrown  heavily  to  the  ground. 


132  An  Old  Foe. 

Frank  had  saved  the  trainer,  and  he  had  been  res- 
cued by  Rattleton. 

"Close  call,  old  man !"  panted  Harry,  as  he  dropped 
[Frank. 

Frank  whirled  about,  hoarsely  demanding : 

"Where  is  he?" 

"Whom?" 

"Evan  Hartwick." 

"Was  it  Hartwick  who  struck  you?*' 

"Yes,  Hartwick,  my  old  enemy — the  man  who  was 
forced  to  leave  Yale  in  order  to  avoid  disgrace !  I  saw 
him  at  my  shoulder,  and  he  gave  me  the  thrust  that 
hurled  me  to  the  ground.  My  old  foe  is  here !  There 
was  something  in  the  warning." 

There  was  an  excited  crowd  around  the  elephant,  but 
Frank  saw  a  suit  of  a  loud  pattern  in  the  midst  of  the 
crowd,  and  toward  that  suit  he  sprang. 

Merriwell  soon  had  Evan  Hartwick  by  the  collar. 

"I  knew  I  was  not  mistaken !"  he  cried,  triumphantly. 
"So  you  are  here,  you  scoundrel !" 

"Yes,  I  am  here!"  grated  Evan,  his  face  livid  with 
rage. 


An  Old  Foe.  133 

Then,  with  all  his  force,  he  struck  straight  at  Frank's 
face. 

Merriwell  dodged,  and  avoided  the  blow.  In  the 
twinkling  of  an  eye,  he  struck  back,  and  Evan  Hart- 
wick  measured  his  length  upon  the  ground. 

"That's  right!"  burst  from  Rattleton.  "Stuff  the 
hammering  out  of  him — I  mean  hammer  the  stuffing 
out  of  him !  It's  what  he  needs !" 

But  Frank  was  not  the  sort  of  fellow  to  hit  an  en- 
emy when  that  enemy  was  down,  and  so  he  waited  for 
Hartwick  to  arise. 

One  of  the  circus  men  caught  Frank  by  the  collar, 
and  pulled  him  away,  saying,  hoarsely: 

"Here!  here!  quit  yer  fightin',  youngkers!  This 
ain't  no  time  for  that  kind  of  business." 

Hartwick  improved  the  opportunity  to  scramble  to 
his  feet  and  get  out  of  the  way,  showing  he  did  not 
care  to  again  encounter  Merriwell  face  to  face. 

"Follow  him,  and  give  him  fits!  Mark  him,  old 
man!" 

"What's  the  use?"  cried  Frank.  "I  knocked  him 
down  all  right,  but  I  am  ashamed  to  do  anything  more. 
I  feel  that  I  have  soiled  my  hands  already." 


134  An  Old  Foe. 

"If  you  don't,  I  will !" 

Harry  would  have  rushed  after  Hartwick,  but  Frank 
caught  him  by  the  arm,  and  held  him  fast,  saying, 
swiftly : 

"It  is  my  affair,  chum,  and  I  will  attend  to  it  with- 
out aid.  I  say  let  him  go.  I  rather  think  one  of  his 
eyes  will  be  in  mourning  to-morrow." 

"He  ought  to  be  thumped  till  he  couldn't  see  for  a 
month!  Do  you  did  what  he  know — I  mean  do  you 
know  what  he  did  ?  Why,  the  miserable  whelp  knocked 
you  down  hoping  the  elephant  would  kill  you !  It  was 
a  rank  attempt  at  murder !" 

"And  it  failed,  as  all  of  his  attempts  to  harm  me  have 
failed.  In  return  he  received  a  beautiful  punch  in  the 
eye.  He  may  have  deserved  more,  but  I  think  we'll 
have  to  let  him  off  with  that." 

Harry  was  not  satisfied,  but  he  was  forced  to  yield, 
and  thus  Hartwick  escaped  with  light  punishment 
for  his  dastardly  attempt. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

TAMING   AN   ELEPHANT. 

The  snared  elephant  was  raging  about  the  tree  in 
the  greatest  fury,  and,  in  this  way,  the  beast  soon  en- 
tangled itself  most  helplessly  with  the  stout  cable. 

Then  Tom  Pearson's  assistants  brought  up  the  small 
furnace,  and,  with  a  wicked  look  in  his  eyes,  the  half- 
drunken  trainer  examined  the  heating  irons. 

"Not  enough  yit,"  he  growled.  "Make  'em  white 
hot.  Napoleon  won't  give  up  easy  ter-day." 

The  irons  were  thrust  back  into  the  fire,  and  the 
heating  continued. 

In  the  meantime  the  old  rogue  had  again  thrown 
himself  to  the  ground,  and  two  of  the  men  slipped  loops 
over  two  of  the  creature's  other  legs,  the  ends  in 
nearly  opposite  directions,  placing  them  in  the  hands 
of  the  men  and  boys  who  stood  ready  to  do  anything  to 
assist  in  the  subjugation  of  the  great  beast. 

Now  the  elephant  was  helplessly  thrown,  but  he  con- 


136  Taming  an  Elephant. 

tinued  to  send  shrill  blasts  of  rage  from  his  trunk, 
which  waved  in  the  air  like  a  signal  of  defiance. 

Already  that  trunk  was  scarred  in  a  frightful  man- 
ner, every  scar  telling  of  the  torture  which  had  been 
inflicted  on  the  rebellious  old  rogue  at  some  former 
time. 

Again  Pearson  examined  the  irons.  This  time  they 
were  hot  enough  to  suit  him,  and  he  selected  one  of 
them,  with  which  he  quickly  approached  the  captive  ele- 
phant. 

Napoleon  saw  Pearson  coming,  and  saw  the  iron  in 
his  hand.  Then  the  great  beast  struggled  with  fierce 
despair,  screaming  forth  its  fear  and  rage. 

"Oh,  I'll  fix  yer!"  grated  Pearson,  as  he  flourished 
the  iron.  "I'll  fix  yer  so  yer  won't  trouble  me  ag'in 
fer  a  year !" 

Taking  care  not  to  get  near  enough  for  the  elephant 
to  strike  him  with  its  trunk,  Pearson  suddenly  thrust 
forth  the  long  iron,  and  there  was  a  hissing  sound,  as 
of  frying  meat,  while  a  whiff  of  smoke  arose  in  the  air. 

Napoleon  had  been  burned  on  the  trunk. 

The  anger  of  the  monster  was  something  frightful 
to  witness,  and  it  seemed  that  he  would  break  the  great 


Taming  an  Elephant.  137 

cables  that  held  him.  It  took  the  united  strength  of 
the  crowd  to  keep  him  from  getting  on  his  feet. 

Fearson  laughed  in  a  brutal  manner. 

"I'll  tame  yer!"  he  said,  with  satisfaction.  "I'll 
make  yer  beg  before  I  let  up,  you  old  devil !" 

Again  and  again  he  burned  the  elephant's  trunk, 
which  is  the  tenderest  part  of  the  creature,  being  the 
most  sensitive  to  pain. 

Napoleon  was  stubborn,  and  the  great  beast  refused 
to  give  up  for  a  time.  Fearson  changed  irons,  and 
resumed  the  burning  of  the  animal,  snarling : 

"I'll  cook  yer  whole  trunk  if  yer  don't  beg,  dern  yer ! 
Beg,  I  tells  yer — beg !  beg !  beg !" 

"It  makes  me  sick,  Frank!"  muttered  Harry,  as  he 
turned  away.  "It  is  something  awful  to  see !" 

"It  is  not  a  pleasant  spectacle,"  admitted  Merriwell; 
"but  I  have  been  told  that  it  is  the  only  way  to  conquer 
some  of  the  creatures.  An  ugly  elephant  is  not  easily 
subdued." 

"I  should  say  not !" 

For  nearly  ten  minutes  the  trainer  continued  to  ap- 
ply the  hot  irons  to  the  elephant.  At  last  the  creature 
lifted  its  trunk,  and  uttered  a  plaintive  sound. 


1 38  Taming  an  Elephant. 

Pearson  laughed  triumphantly. 

"That's  right!"  he  cried;  "beg,  you  old  villain — 
beg!  beg!  I  knew  I  could  bring  you  to  it!" 

Then  he  cast  aside  the  irons,  saying  to  his  assistants : 

"It's  all  right  now;  Napoleon  has  given  up,  and 
there  will  be  no  further  trouble  with  him." 

Without  the  least  hesitation,  he  advanced  upon  the 
elephant,  and  the  creature  made  no  attempt  to  do  him 
harm. 

"That  man  has  been  drinking  too  much,"  said 
Frank;  "but  he  seemed  to  know  how  to  bring  the  old 
rogue  to  time." 

"He  is  built  for  that  sort  of  a  job,"  said  Harry,  in 
disgust.  "His  face  shows  he  likes  it." 

"Every  man  to  his  calling.  I  presume  elephant 
trainers  are  necessary  in  order  to  handle  the  elephants 
in  the  menageries." 

"But  it  does  seem  that  there  must  be  some  more  hu- 
mane manner  of  subduing  them  when  they  get  ugly." 

Pearson  now  proceeded  to  release  Napoleon  from  his 
bonds  in  the  most  fearless  manner. 

"Is  it  possible  he  is  going  to  set  the  creature  free  ?" 
gasped  Harry. 


Taming  an  Elephant.  139 

"It  looks  that  way,"  nodded  Frank. 

"Hadn't  we  better  be  getting  out  of  this  ?  Napoleon 
may  take  a  fancy  to  wreak  vengeance  on  us  as  soon  as 
he  is  at  liberty." 

"I  hardly  think  so.  The  elephant  seldom  is  a  tricky 
animal,  and  when  it  promises  to  behave,  it  does  so  in 
good  faith.  Napoleon  has  promised  to  behave." 

In  a  short  time  the  beast  was  able  to  arise.  It  got  up 
slowly,  and  stood  with  its  trunk  dangling  straight 
down. 

As  Frank  and  Harry  were  watching  Diamond, 
Browning  and  Toots  appeared. 

"Well,  this  beats  the  band!"  drawled  Bruce,  in  his 
lazy  way.  "We  saw  you  running  away  from  the  ele- 
phant, Merry,  with  Rattleton  on  your  back,  and  so  we 
kept  right  on,  thinking  the  roads  must  come  together 
somewhere." 

"But  we  found  they  did  not,"  said  Diamond. 

"Dot  war  after  we  had  done  rode  many  as  fo'teen 
mile,"  declared  the  colored  boy.  "Den  we  had  teh 
turn  roun'  an'  ride  all  dat  way  back." 

"Toots  didn't  want  to  come  back,"  said  Jack. 

"Now,  don't  yeh  go  teh  slanderin'  me,  boy!"  cried 


140  Taming  an  Elephant. 

the  colored  lad.  "I  war  jes'  habin'  mah  liT  joke,  dat 
am  all." 

"He  was  afraid  of  the  elephant,"  explained  Bruce. 

"Horn  ob  Josh'way!  mebbe  yo'  don'  been  'fraid  ob 
de  elumfunt  at  all,  boy!  Why,  yeh  was  so'  fraid  it 
am  a  plumb  wondah  yo'  ain't  runnin'  erway  on  yeh 
bisuckle  now !" 

"We  found  your  wheel  at  the  forks  of  the  road,  and 
brought  it  along,  Harry,"  said  Jack. 

"For  which  I  am  much  obliged,"  said  Rattleton. 
"It  saved  me  the  trouble  of  going  after  it." 

Then  Jack  and  Bruce  questioned  Frank  and  Harry, 
and  the  boys  described  the  whole  of  their  adventure 
with  the  elephant,  ending  with  telling  of  the  mysterious 
warning  and  the  dastardly  assault  of  Evan  Hartwick. 

"Hartwick  here?"  cried  Diamond,  a  flush  of  anger 
coming  to  his  face.  "How  does  that  happen,  Merry  ?" 

"I  do  not  know,"  admitted  Frank.  "All  I  do  know 
is  that  he  is  here,  and  he  tried  to  finish  me." 

"For  which  little  trick  he  got  off  with  one  black 
eye,"  put  in  Rattleton.  "That  was  cheap." 

"So  it  was,"  agreed  Diamond.  "I'd  like  to  see  hirrt 
long  enough  to  make  the  other  eye  a  mate !" 


Taming  an  Elephant.  141 

"If  you  are  going  to  ride  along  with  us,  Harry,"  said 
Frank,  "you'd  better  mend  the  puncture  in  your  tire." 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Rattleton;  "and  I  can  use 
the  elephant  trainer's  fire  to  heat  my  wire,  for  burning 
out  the  hole." 

All  the  boys  carried  repair  kits,  so  that  they  could 
mend  an  ordinary  puncture  anywhere.  Harry  got  his 
out,  and  obtained  liberty  to  heat  the  wire  in  the  little 
furnace.  Then,  surrounded  by  an  interested  and  won- 
dering crowd  of  Missouri  country  folk,  who  discovered 
in  the  mending  of  the  tire  an  attraction  that  rivaled 
the  sight  of  the  elephant,  Harry  went  to  work. 

In  less  than  ten  minutes  the  puncture  was  mended 
and  the  tire  blown  up. 

Some  time  later,  when  the  procession  started  for 
town,  with  Tom  Pearson  leading  the  now  docile  and 
quiet  Napoleon,  the  bicycle  boys  mounted  their  wheels 
and  pedaled  along  with  the  crowd,  getting  into  town 
near  ten  o'clock. 

The  place  was  in  great  excitement.  The  "Grand 
and  Gorgeous  Street  Parade  and  Pageant"  of  Springer 
&  Spofford's  "Unequaled  and  Unrivaled  Consolidated 
Shows  and  Menagerie"  was  billed  to  take  place  at  II 


142  Taming  an  Elephant. 

o'clock  A.  M.,  and  already  the  roads  leading  into  town 
were  thronged  with  country  people  on  their  way  to 
witness  the  free  exhibition  and  balloon  ascension. 

They  were  flocking  into  the  place  in  all  sorts  of  con- 
veyances, and  not  a  few  were  coming  on  foot. 

Without  delay,  the  boys  hastened  to  a  hotel  and  or- 
dered dinner,  which,  fortunately,  they  were  able  to 
have  served  in  short  order.  By  the  time  the  hour  of 
the  parade  arrived  the  young  tourists  had  satisfied  their 
hunger,  and  were  ready  to  "see  the  sights." 

By  this  time  the  principal  street  of  the  town  was 
lined  with  people,  all  of  whom  seemed  eager  for  the 
appearance  of  the  procession. 

"I  have  an  idea,  fellows,"  said  Frank,  as  they  stood 
in  front  of  the  hotel. 

"Give  it  to  us,"  invited  Diamond. 

"I'll  bet  a  cigarette  it  is  something  to  cause  us  labor 
and  trouble,"  drawled  Browning,  languidly.  "That  is 
the  trouble  with  all  of  Merry's  schemes.  If  he'd  think 
of  some  restful  sort  of  scheme  some  time,  it  would  be  a 
great  relief." 

"You  are  a  regular  Weary  Willie,"  said  Rattleton. 


Taming  an  Elephant.  143 

"If  you  keep  on  resting  and  eating,  you'll  make  a  first- 
class  fat  man  in  the  side  show  of  some  circus." 

"That  would  be  an  easy  way  to  make  a  living,"  mur- 
mured Bruce. 

"It  wouldn't  be  long  before  you'd  not  have  energy 
enough  to  draw  your  salary,  to  say  nothing  about  your 
breath." 

"You  are  very  frivolous,  young  man,"  reproached 
Bruce.  "You  may  not  be  aware  that  I  traveled  with  a 
show  once  on  a  time." 

"What  sort  of  a  show?" 

A  theatrical  company,  playing  at  nothing  but  first- 
class  houses." 

"How  did  you  obtain  your  engagement?  Was  the 
manager  crazy?" 

"No ;  but  the  audience  was  after  watching  me  act  a 
while." 

This  was  said  in  Browning's  dryest  manner,  and  it 
produced  a  burst  of  laughter  from  the  others. 

"Hdlo!"  exclaimed  Jack,  pointing  to  a  genuine 
tramp  who  was  loafing  along  the  street;  "that  fellow 
needs  clothes  bad." 


144  Taming  an  Elephant. 

"He  has  them  that  way,"  smiled  Frank.  "I  don't 
see  how  they  could  be  worse." 

The  tramp  noticed  the  boys,  and  immediately  ap- 
proached them. 

"Excuse  me,  young  gents,"  he  said,  touching  the 
brim  of  his  tattered  hat  with  an  attempt  at  a  military 
gesture;  "yer  sees  in  me  a  sample  o'  hard  luck — der 
hardest  kind  o'  luck.  Wot  I  needs  is  a  lift.  I  tole  a 
man  dat  back  here,  an'  he  give  me  one — wid  his  boot. 
It's  not  dat  sort  I'm  lookin'  fer,  young  gents.  You 
looks  well  fed  an'  prosperous,  an'  I  t'ought  yer  might 
cough  up  a  quarter  for  a  poor  devil  wid  a  t'irst  bigger'n 
a  house." 

"I  am  shocked!"  exclaimed  Rattleton,  with  mock 
seriousness.  "It  can't  be  that  you  drink?" 

"Not  warter,  young  gent — excuse  me.  Wen  I  was 
a  young  feller  a  doctor  tole  me  I  had  an  iron  consti- 
tution. Ever  since  den  I've  shunned  warter,  fer  I 
don't  wish  ter  rust  me  constitution." 

This  was  said  in  a  whimsical  manner,  and  brought 
another  laugh  from  the  boys. 

"Seriously,"  said  Diamond,  "what  drove  you  to 
drink  in  the  first  place  ?" 


Taming  an  Elephant.  145 

"A  hackman.  I  had  money  ter  burn  in  dem  days, 
pal" 

"That's  one  on  you,  Jack,"  smiled  Frank.  Then  he 
turned  to  the  tramp,  and  asked:  "Are  you  ever  sober?" 

"Not  on  purpose,"  instantly  answered  the  hobo. 

"Sir,"  said  Browning,  languidly,  "what  is  the  great 
drink  question?" 

"Wot'll  yer  take?" 

"That  is  right;  but,  if  I  were  in  your  place,  I'd  take 
a  hammer  to  my  voice." 

"T'anks.  A  hammer  wouldn't  be  no  good,  pal,  arter 
some  o'  der  t'ings  I  have  taken  to  it." 

"What  is  your  name?"  inquired  Frank. 

"Well,  yer  sees,  I  was  named  Henry ;  but  me  mudder 
uster  call  me  Hen.  Dat  was  because  I  was  alwus  layin' 
'round." 

By  this  time  the  boys  were  in  such  good  humor  that 
Frank  said : 

"That  is  worth  a  quarter,  and  here  you  have  it." 

He  flipped  the  tramp  a  quarter,  which  was  caught 
in  the  most  skillful  manner.  Then  the  hobo  touched 
•  his  hat  again,  expressed  his  thanks  in  a  fluent  flow  of 
language,  and  hastened  away. 


146  Taming  an  Elephant. 

A  short  time  later  the  sound  of  a  blatant  band  was 
heard  in  the  distance,  indicating  that  the  parade  was 
approaching. 

"By  Jove !"  cried  Frank ;  "I  nearly  forgot  my  idea, 
of  which  I  was  speaking." 

"Is  it  too  late  to  give  it  to  us  now  ?" 

"No.  It  is  this :  Why  not  take  out  wheels  and  fall 
in  behind  the  procession  ?  Our  uniforms  would  attract 
attention,  and  it  might  be  an  advertisement  for  old 
Yale." 

To  this  the  lads  immediately  agreed,  and  they  has- 
tened to  don  their  sweaters  and  bring  out  their  bi- 
cycles. 

Down  the  street  came  the  parade,  headed  by  the 
band  in  a  battered  wagon  that  had  once  been  gaudy 
with  paint  and  gilt.  Following  the  band  were  men 
and  women  in  soiled  finery,  mounted  on  tired-looking 
horses,  cages  of  "wild"  animals,  ponies,  broncos, 
"real"  cowboys,  clowns,  and,  "last  but  not  least,"  Na- 
poleon, "the  Wonderful  Trained  Elephant,  Intelligent 
as  a  Human  Being,  Harmless  as  a  Child." 

Next  to  the  band  wagon  rode  "Mile.  Fatima,  Queen 
of  the  Air;"  and  "Little  Lotta,  the  Child  Wonder." 


Taming  an  Elephant.  147 

The  woman  was  painted  and  powdered  and  scrawny; 
.  the  child  was  blue-eyed,  golden-haired  and  flowerlike. 

"Look  at  them!"  exclaimed  Frank,  with  sudden  in- 
terest. "You  can  see  what  that  woman  has  become. 
Is  it  possible  that  innocent-looking  child  will  ever  be 
like  her?" 

"It  is  probable  that  she  will  if  she  follows  the  same 
sort  of  life  the  woman  has  led,"  said  Jack. 

"It's  a  shooming  blame — I  mean  a  blooming  shame !" 
spluttered  Rattleton,  excitedly.  "The  Society  for  the 
Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Children  should  take  hold  of 
the  case." 

"Dat  am  a  fac',"  nodded  Toots,  wisely. 

Browning  did  not  make  a  remark ;  it  was  too  much 
of  an  effort  for  him  to  do  so. 

The  crowd  stared  in  open-mouthed  wonder  at  the 
parade.  They  gasped  when  the  cage  of  "Untamed 
African  Lions"  came  along,  with  "Prof.  Wallace,  the 
Greatest  Animal  Trainer  in  the  World,"  seated  between 
the  two  toothless  old  beasts,  occasionally  flourishing  a 
heavy  whip. 

The  children  were  convulsed  by  the  clowns,  who 
made  funny  faces  and  did  other  idiotic  things.  They 


.48  Taming  an  Elephant. 

were  delighted  by  the  sight  of  the  ponies,  and  filled 
with  wonder  at  the  size  of  the  miserable  elephant,  fail- 
ing to  note  the  terrible  scars  and  burns  on  the  trunk  of 
the  unfortunate  animal. 

"Look  at  that  man  Pearson !"  urged  Diamond,  point- 
ing at  Napoleon's  master.  "I  believe  he  is  drunker 
than  he  was  when  we  first  saw  him." 

"That's  what  he  is,"  nodded  Frank.  "Why,  he  can 
scarcely  stagger  along.  He  is  a  healthy  sort  of  ele- 
phant trainer !" 

"If  Napoleon  should  take  a  fancy  to  obtain  revenge, 
he'd  not  have  much  trouble  to  do  up  Fear  son,"  ob- 
served Rattleton. 

Then  came  a  surprise  for  them  all.  The  last  car- 
riage of  the  procession  was  a  light  buggy,  driven  by  a 
Hack  boy.  On  an  elevated  seat  in  the  buggy  was  a 
youth  in  a  suit  adorned  with  an  abundance  of  gold 
lace.  In  a  loud  voice  the  youth  was  announcing  a 
free  open-air  exhibition  and  balloon  ascension  imme- 
diately on  the  arrival  of  the  procession  at  the  circus 
grounds. 


Taming  an  Elephant.  149 

"May  I  be  hanged!"  cried  Rattleton.  "So  that's 
the  jink  of  a  kob — I  mean  the  kind  of  a  job  Hartwick 
has  with  this  circus !" 

"He  has  to  do  something,  you  know,  after  his  old 
man  turned  him  out  to  shift  for  himself,"  murmured 
Browning. 

It  was,  indeed,  Hartwick.  He  saw  the  boys  on  the 
steps  of  the  hotel,  and  the  words  suddenly  died  on  his 
tongue.  He  glared  at  Frank,  and  his  face  was  con- 
vulsed with  a  look  of  the  most  intense  hatred. 

"See  him  smile  on  you,  Merry!"  chuckled  Harry, 
giving  Frank  a  nudge. 

Merriwell  returned  Hartwick's  look  with  one  of 
mingled  scorn  and  pity,  causing  the  lad  in  the  carriage 
to  turn  away,  muttering  a  savage  exclamation. 

"Really  I  am  sorry  for  him,"  declared  Frank.  "He 
had  ungovernable  passions,  and  they  have  worked  his 
downfall.  He  was  born  with  a  temperament  that  will 
be  his  final  ruin.  He  was  not  considered  such  a  bad 
fellow  at  Yale  till  he  became  jealous  of  me  and  tried  to 
injure  me." 


150  Taming  an  Elephant. 

"He  was  not  considered  bad,  but  he  was  bad  at  heart, 
just  the  same,"  stiffly  declared  Diamond. 

"Well,  we'll  not  argue  about  that  point,"  said  Frank. 
"Come  on ;  we'll  fall  in  behind,  and  follow  to  the  circu? 
grounds." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE     SHELL     GAME. 

At  the  circus  grounds  a  great  crowd  assembled. 
There  were  several  kinds  of  side  shows  in  small  tents, 
lemonade  and  peanut  stands,  fakirs  who  were  selling 
"solid  cold  watches"  for  fifty  cents  each,  and  scores  of 
other  schemes  to  snare  and  swindle  the  unwary  and 
unsophisticated. 

The  principal  side  show,  which  was  connected  with 
the  circus,  was  in  full  blast  beneath  a  small  tent,  in 
front  of  which  was  strung  a  long  series  of  weird  and 
astounding  oil  paintings  on  huge  squares  of  canvas, 
representing1  all  sorts  of  impossible  things,  from  the 
"Wonderful  Wild  Man  of  New  Zealand"  to  a  "Real 
Mermaid,  Captured  Alive  in  the  South  Sea." 

In  front  of  the  entrance  to  this  tent,  standing  on  an 
elevated  platform,  and  shouting  his  alluring  descrip- 
tions of  the  marvels  to  be  seen  within,  was  the  an- 
nouncer for  the  side  show,  a  decidedly  tough-looking 
young  man. 


152  The  Shell  Game. 

From  the  peak  of  the  center  pole  of  the  great  tent 
to  the  ground  ran  a  wire,  down  which  it  was  announced 
Little  Lotta  would  "coast  with  the  speed  of  the  wind, 
suspended  by  the  hair  of  her  head." 

Not  far  from  the  large  tent  was  an  inflated  balloon, 
secured  to  the  ground  by  strong  ropes,  and  in  this  bal- 
loon "Prof.  Andre"  was  to  make  his  "breathless,  brain- 
bewildering  ascension  into  the  dim  remoteness  of  dis- 
tant space." 

The  announcer  in  front  of  the  side  show  continued  to 
tell  the  crowd  that  the  big  show  would  not  begin  for 
more  than  an  hour,  and  the  box  office  in  the  ticket 
wagon  would  not  be  opened  for  more  than  half  an 
hour,  giving  every  one  a  chance  to  witness  all  the  won- 
ders of  the  free  exhibition  and  side  show. 

Arriving  at  the  ground,  the  young  tourists  left  their 
bicycles  in  charge  of  Toots,  and  wandered  around. 

"This  is  a  great  and  glorious  day  for  red  lemonade 
and  peanuts,"  laughed  Harry.  "It  is  just  hot  enough 
to  make  the  lemonade  look  cool  and  inviting,  and  the 
peanuts  are  bound  to  add  to  the  thirst  of  whoever  in- 
dulges in  them." 

"Look  at  the  crowd  of  jays  around  that  fellow  over 


The  Shell  Game.  153 

there,"  said  Jack.  "Let's  see  what  sort  of  a  game  he 
is  running." 

The  boys  pushed  into  the  crowd,  soon  obtaining  a 
position  where  they  could  see  what  was  taking  place. 

Then  it  was  that  Rattleton  came  near  shouting  out 
an  exclamation  of  wonder. 

"Smoly  hoke — no,  holy  smoke!"  he  gasped.  "Do 
you  see  him,  Frank?  do  you  see  the  bird  who  is  run- 
ning this  skin  business?" 

"Yes,  I  see  him,"  said  Merriwell,  calmly. 

"It's — it's  Rolf  Harlow,  from  New  Haven!"  came 
from  Diamond's  lips. 

Bruce  said  nothing,  but  there  was  a  grunting  sound 
in  his  throat,  and  that  sound  was  very  expressive. 

"Harlow — Harlow,  the  shard  carp — I  mean  the  card 
sharp!"  palpitated  Rattleton.  "Harlow,  the  crooked 
gambler!  And  he  is  at  his  old  tricks." 

"That's  what  he  is,"  said  Frank.  "He  seems  de- 
termined to  get  his  living  in  a  dishonest  manner." 

In  front  of  Harlow  was  a  stand,  on  which  were 
three  ordinary  half-shells  of  walnuts.  Besides  those 
shells  there  was  a  small  black  ball,  about  as  large  as  a 
pea.  Harlow  was  rolling  the  ball  about,  now  and  then 


154  The  Shell  Game. 

covering  it  with  a,  shell,  while  a  perfect  stream  of 
smooth,  suave  language  flowed  from  his  mouth. 

"Here,  gentlemen,"  said  Rolf,  "you  see  an  honest 
game  of  chance — a  game  at  which  any  man  of  average 
intelligence  and  clear  eyes  may  win  a  small  fortune. 
Watch  the  little  joker,  gentlemen — see  it  roll.  Now  it 
is  hidden  from  view.  *  The  shells  are  all  down,  and  I'll 
go  you  something  there  is  not  a  man  here  who  can  pick 
out  the  shell  that  covers  the  little  fellow." 

"Oh,  shucks!"  cried  a  lank  man,  with  long,  to- 
bacco-stained whiskers.  "That's  easy.  Whir  be  you 
frum  that  you  think  yer  can  fool  fo'kes  with  that  trick, 
mister?" 

"I  am  from  the  East — the  raw  and  unsophisticated 
East,"  answered  Harlow,  with  a  smile.  "It  is  pos- 
sible that  the  people  of  the  East  are  more  easily  de- 
ceived that  you  smart,  snappy,  up-to-date  Westerners. 
Living  in  crowded  cities,  as  the  Eastern  people  do, 
their  eyes  become  weakened  and  their  sight  shortened, 
till  it  is  not  such  a  difficult  thing  to  deceive  them.  Out 
here,  where  you  have  wide  tracts  of  Nature's  most  glo- 
rious domain  to  gaze  upon,  it  is  but  natural  that  your 


The  Shell  Game.  155 

eyes  should  be  keener  and  sharper  than  the  eyes  of  the 
men  who  are  shut  in  between  the  dark  walls  that  crowd 
and  shadow  the  streets  of  an  Eastern  city.  In  the 
East  I  made  a  great  deal  of  money.  Here  is  some  of 
it." 

He  displayed  a  huge  roll  of  bills,  bright  and  crisp 
and  new.  The  bill  on  the  outside  of  the  roll  was  worth 
a  hundred  dollars,  and  the  sight  of  all  that  money 
caused  the  country  people  to  gasp  and  stare  greedily. 

"I  am  willing  to  lose  all  this  money  in  trying  to  fool 
some  of  you  people  out  here,"  Harlow  continued.  "I 
have  lost  some  of  it  already,  and  you  may  break  me 
here.  If  you  do,  I'm  going  to  quit  trying  to  fool 
Westerners,  and  go  back  East,  where  the  graft  is  easy. 
So  walk  right  up,  gentlemen,  and  relieve  me  of  my  du- 
cats. You  will  be  welcome  to  them — if  you  win  them. 
And  you  will  win  them  if  you  find  the  shell  beneath 
which  the  little  joker  is  hidden.  Now  watch  it  again. 
Here  it  goes.  Hickro,  domino,  presto — I'll  bet  there 
isn't  a  person  present  who  can  tell  which  shell  it  is 
under." 

"The  middle  one/'  called  a  voice. 

"What's  that?"  cried  Harlow,  in  pretended  surprise. 


156  The  Shell  Game. 

"How  can  it  be  there?  Aren't  you  mistaken,  sir?  It 
must  be  under  one  of  the  end  ones." 

"No,  sir,"  persisted  the  voice;  "it  is  under  the  mid- 
dle one." 

"Shall  I  lift  the  middle  shell?"  asked  Rolf. 

"Yes." 

"All  right." 

The  shell  was  lifted,  and  the  pea  was  shown  be- 
neath it. 

"Say,  that's  what  I  told  you !"  cried  Harlow,  in  pre- 
tended anger  and  disgust.  "Your  eyes  are  too  sharp 
for  me.  I  think  I  will  close  up  now,  and  quit  business 
before  I  begin." 

He  made  a  pretense  of  gathering  up  his  outfit,  and 
then  seemed  to  change  his  mind,  saying: 

"No,  gentlemen,  I'll  not  be  frightened  away  in  this 
manner.  I  see  some  of  you  are  laughing.  I  do  not 
like  to  be  laughed  at.  I  am  willing  to  lose  five  hun- 
dred dollars  before  I  quit.  Somebody  will  get  that  five 
hundred.  Who  is  the  lucky  man?  Here  goes  the  lit- 
tle joker  again,  gentlemen.  Watch  him.  Ha!  you 
think  he  is  under  the  end  now — I  know  you  do." 


The  Shell  Game.  157 

"Not  much,"  called  the  same  voice.  "He  is  under 
the  other  end." 

Harlow  lifted  the  shell  indicated,  and  there  lay  the 
tiny  black  ball. 

"This  is  what  I  call  very  provoking!"  he  exclaimed. 
"Still,  you  are  losing  money,  sir.  If  you  had  been  bet- 
ting, you  would  have  a  slice  of  my  roll  now.  Ten  dol- 
lars for  one,  remember.  If  you  put  up  five  dollars  and 
name  the  shell  that  covers  the  pea,  you  get  fifty  dollars 
in  return.  Ten  dollars  wins  a  hundred,  and  so  on  in 
the  same  proportion.  Now,  who  makes  the  first  trial  ? 
Here  goes  the  little  fellow  again.  Watch  him!  watch 
him!  I  am  going  to  do  my  best  to  deceive  you  this 
time.  Ah!  now  he  is  settled,  and  who  will  name  the 
shell  that  covers  him?" 

A  young  man,  roughly  dressed,  pushed  to  the  front 
and  lay  down  a  five-dollar  bill,  saying: 

"I'll  go  yer  that  much.     If  I  win,  I  get  fifty?" 

"Sure,  my  friend.  Name  the  shell,  and  you  receive 
the  fifty  flat.  Which  is  it  now?" 

"That  one  thar." 

The  shell  was  lifted,  and  there  lay  the  pea. 


158  The  Shell  Game 

"Here  you  get  your  money,"  said  Harlow,  as  he 
counted  out  fifty  dollars.  "Try  it  again?" 

"Yes.     I'll  go  yer  ten  this  time." 

"All  right.  Watch  the  little  joker.  See  the  jolly 
little  fellow  roll.  Here  he  goes,  and  there  he  goes. 
Now  he  is  gone.  Where  is  he  ?  Locate  him,  and  you 
receive  a  cold  hundred  for  your  ten." 

"Middle  one." 

"Be  careful !     You  want  to  be  sure  this  time." 

"Middle  one." 

Harlow  scowled. 

"Shall  I  lift  the  middle  one?" 

"Yes." 

"All  right." 

The  shell  was  lifted,  and  the  pea  was  there. 

"A  hundred  you  win,  sir,"  said  Harlow,  as  he 
counted  out  the  money.  "That's  what  I  call  getting 
good  money  easy.  But  you  are  too  much  for  me — I 
can  see  that.  This  is  your  last  chance.  You  must 
give  others  an  opportunity  to  get  some  of  this  wealth, 
for  I  see  they  are  anxious.  No  person  can  have  more 
than  three  shots  at  me  in  succession,  win  or  lose.  Here 


The  Shell  Game.  159 

goes  the  joker  again.  Your  last  chance.  Where  is 
he?" 

"I'll  bet  a  hundred  dollars  I  can  pick  out  the  shell  I" 
cried  the  one  who  had  won  twice. 

"All  right.  You  get  a  thousand  if  you  win,  and 
that  is  a  small  fortune  for  any  man.  Are  you  ready? 
Choose." 

"Middle  one,  ag'in." 

With  an  exclamation  of  apparent  fury,  Harlow  lifted 
the  middle  shell,  and  the  black  pea  was  exposed  once 
more. 

"Now,  that  is  what  I  call  wretched  luck — for  me !" 
he  growled,  as  he  counted  out  the  money.  "I  said  I 
would  lose  five  hundred,  and  I  have  lost  more  than  a 
thousand.  Well,  I  am  glad  you  can't  choose  again, 
sir!  Take  your  money  and  leave.  I  am  so  deep  in 
the  hole  that  I  shall  try  to  see  if  I  can't  recover  some  of 
it.  If  every  man  who  tries  this  game  has  your  luck, 
I  shall  be  busted  in  a  short  time." 

The  winner  took  his  money,  and,  laughing  trium- 
phantly, turned  away. 

He  was  Evan  Hartwick. 

"Well,  that  is  what  I  call  rather  slick !"  smiled  Frank 


160  The  Shell  Game. 

Merriwell.  "Hartwick  and  Harlow  are  working  the 
snap  together.  Hartwick  is  Harlow's  capper,  and  they 
do  the  thing  very  well.  Now  we'll  see  a  rush  of  hay- 
seeds, who  will  be  eager  to  get  some  of  Harlow's 
money  before  it  is  all  gone." 

"But  where  did  he  get  so  much  money?"  asked  Dia- 
mond, in  wonder.  "He  must  be  loaded  with  it.5> 

"He  must  be.  It  is  plain  that  they  have  been  catch- 
ing any  amount  of  suckers  out  this  way,  or  that  stuff 
is  counterfeit." 

"Hartwick  gets  his  clothes  changed  pretty  soon  after 
the  procession  reaches  the  grounds,"  said  Rattleton. 
"He  was  flashily  dressed  while  making  his  announce- 
ments with  the  parade." 

"It  is  plain  that  he  makes  a  great  rush  to  get  around 
and  give  Harlow  a  lift.  But  look  at  the  jays  now 
who  are  thirsting  to  lose  their  money." 

Around  Harlow's  table  was  an  eager  crowd  of  men 
who  were  fairly  trembling  with  excitement  and  eager 
greed.  They  pushed  and  shoved  each  other,  fearing 
they  would  be  too  late  to  secure  a  portion  of  the  money 
remaining  in  Rolf  Harlow's  possession. 

"Don't  get  ^xcited,  gentlemen,"  said  the  slick  young 


The  Shell  Game.  161 

sharp,  with  a  calm  smile.  "I  shall  endeavor  to  accom- 
modate you  all.  When  you  have  cleaned  me  out,  I'll 
shut  up  shop,  but  I'm  bound  to  last  quite  a  while.  This 
is  not  all  the  money  I  have.  There  is  more  where  this 
roll  came  from.  Now  be  quiet,  and  watch  the  little 
joker.  Here  you  see  him,  a  common  black  ball.  He 
is  a  lively  fellow.  See  him  roll.  Now  he  is  gone, 
and  I  defy  you  to  tell  where  he  is.  This  is  business. 
Ten  dollars  for  every  one  you  stake,  if  you  find  the 
little  joker." 

"Gosh!"  gurgled  Harry  Rattleton.  "He'll  make  a 
big  haul,  if  he  catches  every  fellow  who  wants  to  put 
up  something." 

"But  he  shall  not  catch  them !"  exclaimed  Frank. 

Then,  with  surprising  strength,  Frank  tore  the 
crowd  apart,  and  forced  himself  to  the  front,  his  clear 
voice  ringing  out : 

"Hold  on,  gentlemen !  Wait  a  moment  before  you 
put  up  any  money.  I  have  something  to  tell  you." 

The  crowd  was  not  pleased  by  this  interruption. 
Some  growled  and  muttered,  while  others  tried  to  push 
Frank  back. 


1 62  The  Shell  Game. 

But  the  young  Yale  man  was  not  to  be  stopped.  He 
reached  the  front,  and  there  he  distinctly  cried : 

"I  know  this  fellow  who  is  running  the  game." 

Harlow  turned  pale  and  shook  with  rage. 

"Merriwell!"  he  gasped. 

"I  know  him  well,"  Frank  went  on;  "and  I  assure 
you  that  he  is  a  thoroughbred  crook.  There  is  not  an 
honest  bone  in  his  body,  and  he  will  beat  you  out  of 
your  money,  if  you  put  your  money  up." 

"Liar!"  grated  Harlow,  choking  with  intense  pas- 
sion. 

"How  do  you  know  so  much?"  asked  one  of  the 
would-be  gamblers. 

"I  know  it  because  this  is  not  the  first  time  I  have 
seen  him  work  his  crooked  game,"  declared  Frank. 
"This  is  not  the  first  time  I  have  exposed  him  in  his 
swindling  operations." 

"How  about  the  young  feller  that  won  a  thousand 
dollars?"  asked  another. 

"He  is  this  chap's  friend  and  capper.  They  stand 
in  together.  He  is  the  one  who  made  the  announce- 
ments from  the  rear  end  of  the  parade  as  it  passed 
through  town.  He  has  changed  his  clothes,  and  does 


The  Shell  Game.  163 

not  look  the  same,  that  is  all.  It  was  arranged  that  he 
should  win,  so  that  others  might  be  induced  to  play. 
That  is  the  whole  trick,  and  you  will  lose  everything, 
if  you  try  to  beat  this  young  swindler  at  his  own 
game." 

"It  is  a  lie,  gentlemen !"  cried  Harlow,  his  voice 
trembling.  "This  fellow  has  a  grudge  against  me,  and 
he  is  trying  to  injure  me.  That  is  the  truth.  Do  not 
believe  a  word  he  says." 

"It  is  straight  goods,  gentlemen,"  asserted  Jack,  as 
he  reached  Merriwell's  side.  "I  can  swear  that  the  fel- 
low over  there  is  a  swindler,  for  I  have  been  beaten  by 
him  myself." 

"And  I  am  in  the  same  boat,"  confessed  Harry,  join- 
ing his  friends.  "He  difed  me  kneep — I  mean  he 
knifed  me  deep;  and  he  will  knife  you,  if  you  play  his 
game.  That  is  what  he  intends  to  do." 

"Which  is  correct,"  murmured  Bruce,  who  was  the 
last  to  come  forward.  "The  slick  rascal's  name  is 
Harlow,  and  he  was  run  out  of  an  Eastern  town  for 
playing  poker  with  marked  cards." 

A  murmur  arose  on  the  air,  growing  louder  and 
louder.  Harlow  found  himself  surrounded  by  scowl- 


1 64  The  Shell  Game. 

ing  faces,  and  he  suddenly  realized  that  he  was  in  dan- 
ger. He  grew  pale,  looking  around  in  a  manner  that 
showed  he  contemplated  flight. 

The  murmur  swelled  to  a  sullen  roar. 

"Grab  him !"  shouted  a  hoarse  voice. 

Then  Rolf  Harlow  realized  that  he  was  in  peril,  and 
he  made  a  desperate  break  to  get  away.  Thrusting 
those  near  him  aside,  and  abandoning  his  outfit  for 
swindling,  he  dashed  through  the  crowd  and  took  to 
his  heels. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

LITTLE   LOTTA. 

"Well,"  languidly  drawled  Bruce,  as  he  watched  the 
shouting  pursuers  disappear  around  the  big  tent,  "Mr. 
Harlow  had  better  hurry  right  along,  or  he  may  be 
rumpled." 

Then  the  boys  turned  and  found  Frank  reading  some 
writing  on  a  slip  of  paper. 

"What  have  you  there,  old  man?"  asked  Diamond. 

"Another  warning." 

"When  did  you  get  it?" 

"At  the  moment  when  the  crowd  started  after  Har- 
low. It  was  thrust  into  my  hand  by  some  person." 

"You  did  not  see  who  thrust  it  into  your  hand?" 

"No." 

"What  does  it  say?" 

Then  Frank  read  as  follows : 

"Beware,  Frank  Merriwell;  heed  my  warning.  If 
you  remain  here,  your  enemies  are  bound  to  do  you 
some  great  injury.  Go  on  your  way.  If  you  do  not, 
you  will  be  sorry.  A  FRIEND/' 


1 66  Little  Lotta. 

"Who  is  this  friend  who  is  taking  so  much  trouble 
to  warn  you  in  such  a  mysterious  manner  ?"  said  Jack, 
perplexed. 

"You  can  answer  the  question  as  well  as  I  can,"  con- 
fessed Frank. 

"I  do  not  believe  it  is  a  friend/'  broke  out  Harry. 
"I  believe  it  is  Hartwick,  who  is  trying  to  frighten 
you  away." 

"You  are  wrong  in  that." 

"Why?" 

"Hartwick  knows  me  better  than  to  think  for  a  mo- 
ment that  I  could  be  frightened  away  in  such  a  man- 
ner." 

"That  is  true/'  nodded  Rattleton.  "Hartwick  would 
not  try  that  kind  of  a  game  on  Merry,  you  bet !" 

"Then  who " 

"That  is  the  question,"  said  Frank.  "If  it  is  not  an 
enemy  trying  to  frighten  me  away,  it  must  be  a  friend ; 
but  why  any  one  should  take  so  much  interest  in  me  is 
more  than  I  can  understand." 

The  more  the  boys  studied  over  the  matter,  the  more 
puzzled  they  became.  Why  any  one  should  take  so 


Little  Lotta.  167 

much  trouble  to  warn  Merriwell,  and  keep  in  the  back- 
ground all  the  while,  was  a  mystery  not  easy  to  solve. 

There  was  a  movement  of  the  crowd  toward  the 
largest  tent,  and  then  it  was  seen  that  Little  Lotta  was 
preparing  for  her  trip  down  the  taut  wire. 

Sitting  on  a  seat  like  that  of  a  swing,  the  seat  being 
attached  to  a  block  that  ran  on  the  wire,  the  child  was 
drawn  to  the  very  peak  of  the  center  pole  of  the  great 
tent. 

She  was  dressed  all  in  white,  and  laughed  and  kissed 
her  hands  to  the  crowd  during  the  ascent,  but  Frank, 
who  had  been  near  at  the  start,  fancied  there  was  a 
frightened  look  in  her  eyes.  Merriwell  had  heard  her 
talking  to  Tom  Fearson,  who  was  at  the  lower  end  of 
the  wire,  and  she  had  tremblingly  said : 

"You'll  be  sure  to  catch  me  and  save  me  from  com- 
ing down  hard  and  being  hurt,  Mr.  Fearson — you 
won't  fail?" 

"Of  course  not — hie! — you  little  fool!"  Fearson 
coarsely  answered.  "What's  ther  matter  with  yer! 
Go  'long,  before  I  box  yer  ears !" 

"Please  don't  strike  me!"  pleaded  the  child,  as  she 
cowed  like  a  dog  that  fears  its  master. 


368  Little  Lotta. 

"The  brute !"  muttered  Frank. 

Then  two  men  pulled  away  at  the  line  that  drew  the 
child  to  her  perilous  position  above  the  loftiest  part  of 
the  great  tent,  where  she  hovered  like  a  little  white 
angel,  seeming  to  hesitate  about  taking  that  frightful 
plunge  down  the  wire. 

Some  arrangement  had  been  made  so  the  child  was 
able  to  attach  her  hair  to  the  small  block  that  ran  on 
the  wire. 

This  Lotta  did,  while  the  crowd  of  spectators 
watched  her  with  breathless  interest. 

The  swinging  seat,  which  had  been  removed  from 
the  block,  was  left  attached  to  the  line  by  which  the 
child  had  been  drawn  up.  Then  the  little  girl  poised 
herself  for  the  descent. 

A  moment  later  she  unfolded  a  pair  of  snowy  white 
wings,  and  then  she  came  shooting  down  the  wire, 
looking  like  an  angel  descending  to  earth. 

Frank  had  been  watching  Tom  Fearson,  and  he  saw 
the  drunken  elephant  trainer  was  paying  very  little  at- 
tention to  the  girl.  Fearson  was  heedless,  and  he 
turned  to  look  away,  after  giving  the  signal  for  Lotta 
to  descend. 


Little  Lotta.  169 

"Confound  him!"  muttured  Frank,  springing  for- 
ward. 

Then  Pearson  turned,  and,  as  the  child  came  rushing 
into  his  arms,  caught  her  in  a  bungling  fashion. 

Lotta  uttered  a  cry  of  pain,  and  the  last  bit  of  color 
fled  from  her  pretty  face,  as  if  she  were  about  to  faint. 

"What  d'yer  want  to  squawk  fer?"  snarled  Pearson, 
as,  staggering  from  the  shock,  not  having  been  well  bal- 
anced on  his  feet  when  she  struck  his  arms,  he  barely 
succeeded  in  keeping  from  falling. 

The  girl  did  not  reply,  but  Frank  saw  she  was  gasp- 
ing for  breath. 

Pearson  gave  her  a  savage  shake,  hissing  in  her  ear : 

"Why  don't  yer  answer  w'en  I  speak  ter  yer? 
Wat's  the  matter  with  yer?  Don't  play  none  of  yer 
flip-flap  business  on  me!" 

"Don't !"  gasped  the  child.     "You  are  hurting  me !" 

"Rot!"  growled  the  brute,  repeating  the  shake. 
"You  want  me — hie ! — ter  think  ye' re  soft  and  delicate, 
but " 

The  man  was  suddenly  astonished  to  feel  the  little 
girl  snatched  from  his  arms,  while  a  hand  fastened  on 
his  collar,  and  a  voice  cried  in  his  ear : 


ijo  Little  Lotto. 

"You  big  brute!" 

A  second  later  Fearson  was  sent  whirling  from  the 
spot,  spinning  round  and  round,  like  a  top,  till  he  lost 
his  balance  and  fell  heavily  to  the  ground. 

It  was  Frank  who  had  dared  thus  to  lay  hands  on 
the  elephant  trainer,  and,  as  he  held  the  little  girl  gen- 
tly in  his  arms,  he  softly  said : 

"Don't  be  afraid ;  I'll  not  harm  you.  Where  is  your 
dressing-tent  ?" 

She  looked  up  at  him,  wonderingly. 

"Why!"  she  exclaimed;  "you  are  not  one  of  the 
men !" 

"No." 

"If  you  had  been,  you  would  not  have  dared  touch 
him." 

"Perhaps  not." 

"Oh,  they  all  fear  him — everybody  fears  him!  He 
has  such  an  awful  temper!  He'd  as  lief  kill  any  one 
as  not!" 

"I  don't  doubt  it.  A  man  who  can  take  delight  in 
torturing  an  elephant  must  be  a  murderous  brute." 

"He  is  sure  to  hurt  you.     Aren't  you  afraid  now  ?" 

"No,  dear,  I  am  not  afraid  of  him.     I  rather  fancy 


Little  Lotta.  171 

he  is  a  coward  at  heart,  although  he  likes  to  play  the 
bully." 

"If  you  knew  him,  you'd  be  afraid — I  know  you 
would." 

Then  Frank  again  asked  the  child  the  way  to  the 
dressing-tent,  and,  when  she  had  shown  him,  still  hold- 
ing her  in  his  arms,  he  hurried  in  that  direction, 
watched  by  the  wondering  spectators. 

Fearson  sat  up,  and  looked  around  in  a  drunken  way, 
but  he  was  so  bewildered  that  it  took  him  some  time  to 
get  his  eyes  on  Frank.  At  last,  he  saw  the  young  col- 
lege lad,  just  as  Merriwell  bore  Little  Lotta  into  the 
dressing-tent. 

"Hey!"  roared  Fearson;  "drop  her!" 

But  Merriwell  did  not  seem  to  hear  him. 

Then  the  elephant  trainer  began  to  curse,  and  he 
tried  to  scramble  to  his  feet,  but  fell  over  in  a  helpless 
heap. 

"Let  me  give  you  a  hand,"  said  a  voice,  and,  look- 
ing up,  Fearson  saw  Evan  Hartwick  bending  over 
him. 

"So    shyou?"    came    thickly    from    Fearson'    lips. 


172  Little  Lotta. 

"Well,  w'at  d'yer  think  I  want  help  fer  ?  I'm  all  right 
Lemme  'lone!" 

Despite  his  protests,  Hartwick  helped  him  to  his 
feet. 

As  soon  as  he  was  upright,  Fearson  seemed  to  re- 
cover in  a  measure,  and  the  language  that  fell  from  his 
lips  would  not  look  well  here.  A  look  of  satisfaction 
came  to  Hartwick's  face,  as  he  heard  the  man  cursing 
the  lad  who  had  thrown  him  down. 

"I  know  that  fellow,"  declared  Hartwick,  in  a  man- 
ner that  attracted  the  trainer's  attention  and  caused 
him  to  stop  cursing  for  a  moment. 

"Well,  I  don't  care  if  yer  do!"  snarled  Fearson. 
"He  may  be  a  friend  o'  yours,  but  I'm  goin'  ter  punch 
his  head  jes'  ther  same !" 

"He  is  no  friend  of  mine,"  declared  Evan,  in  a 
guarded  voice.  "He  is  an  enemy,  and  I  hate  him  more 
than  I  hate  any  other  person  on  the  face  of  the  earth !" 

"Well,  I'm  goin'  ter  kick  ther  stuffin'  outer  him! 
Come  erlong,  an'  you'll  see  some  fun." 

"Wait  a  minute,  Fearson ;  I  want  to  tell  you  some- 
thing. You  are  in  no  condition  to  tackle  him  now." 

"Why  not?" 


Little  Lotta.  173 

"You're  half  shot." 

"No  such  thing — hie !  I'm  all  right.  He's  nothing 
but  a  kid.  I  could  lick  him  'fi  had  twict  ther  load." 

"That's  where  you  make  a  mistake.  He's  a  scrap- 
per." 

"Don't  care;  he's  a  boy.     I  can  lick  a  boy." 

"He  is  more  of  a  man  than  you  think.  And  I  tell 
you  that  you  had  better  go  slow.  Take  my  warning." 

Pearson  flung  Hartwick  off  in  a  savage  manner. 

"Git  out!"  he  snarled.    "I  know  my  business!" 

"All  right,"  said  Evan;  "go  ahead.  You  will  know 
more  after  you  are  through  with  Frank  Merriwell. 
Then  you  may  come  to  me,  and  I'll  have  a  talk  with 
you." 

Pearson  rolled  away  toward  the  dressing-tent. 

In  the  meantime,  Frank  had  boldly  carried  Little 
Lotta  into  the  tent,  paying  no  attention  to  the  per- 
formers who  were  dressing  for  the  show.  Lotta 
guided  him  to  a  corner,  where  a  shabby  curtain  was 
hung,  making  a  little  alcove,  in  which  there  could 
be  a  pretense  of  secrecy. 

"This  is  where  I  dress,"  she  explained,  as  she  sat 
down  on  a  box  just  outside  the  curtain,  and  leaned 


174  Little  Lotta. 

against  a  pile  of  trappings,  still  looking  pale,  but 
with  a  suggestion  of  color  returning  slowly  to  her 
cheeks.  "Mile.  Fatima  dresses  here,  too." 

"Who  is  Mile.  Fatima?"  asked  Frank,  by  way  of 
saying  something. 

"She  says  she  is  my  mother,"  answered  the  girl, 
slowly. 

"And  your  father?" 

"He's  dead." 

"How  about  Fearson  ?    What  is  he  to  you  ?" 

"Fatima  says  he  is  my  uncle." 

"How  long  have  you  been  with  a  circus?" 

"Ever  since  I  can  remember." 

"Do  you  like  it?" 

"Sometimes  I  do.  I  like  to  hear  the  applause  and 
see  the  people  waving  their  hands  and  handkerchiefs; 
but  I  have  to  work  so  hard  all  the  time,  and  it  never 
seems  that  I  am  rested.  Oh,  I'd  give  so  much  to  go 
away  off  somewhere  where  there  are  no  circuses  and 
just  do  nothing  but  rest,  rest,  rest !" 

Frank's  heart  was  touched,  and  his  heart  went  out 
to  the  pretty  child  whose  life  was  so  hard,  and  who 
longed  so  much  for  rest. 


Little  Lotta.  175 

"Don't  you  get  rest  in  the  winter  time?" 

"Oh,  no!" 

"But  the  circus  does  not  run  right  along  through 
the  winter  ?" 

"Sometimes  it  does.  One  winter  we  traveled  all 
the  time  in  the  South,  but  down  there,  in  some  of  the 
States,  circuses  have  to  pay  such  big  licenses  that 
they  stay  away." 

"What  do  you  do  when  the  circus  is  not  traveling?" 

"Work — practice  every  day  learning  new  feats. 
And  then  I  get  scolded  and  hit  and  whipped  and  kept 
hungry  when  I  fail.  Oh,  I  tell  you  it  is  not  easy!" 

Frank  flushed. 

"Whipped  and  kept  hungry!"  he  muttered.  "Who 
dares  treat  you  in  such  an  inhuman  manner?" 

"Fatima." 

"Your  mother?" 

"The  one  who  says  she  is  my  mother." 

"Who  says  so!  Then — then  you  think  she  is  not 
your  mother?" 

"It  doesn't  seem  that  she  can  be  my  really  and  truly 
mother,"  said  the  child,  in  a  low  tone.  "Sometimes 


176  Little  Lotta. 

I  dream  of  a  really  and  truly  mother,  and  she  is  not 
at  all  like  Fatima — her  face  is  so  different.  The 
mother  I  see  in  my  dreams  has  such  a  sweet,  good 
face,  and  she  smiles  on  me  so  tenderly!  I  know  that 
face  so  well,  and  I  love  it  so  much!  It  is  white  and 
beautiful,  but  there  is  something  sad  about  it,  as  if 
she  were  sorry  for  me.  That  face  bends  over  me, 
and  the  lips  touch  my  hair  and  my  cheek,  and,  oh! 
that  touch  is  so  much  like  heaven !  Sometimes  I  dream 
that  I  put  my  arms  about  her  neck,  and  that  her  arms 
are  about  me,  and  I  beg  her  not  to  let  me  go,  but  to 
keep  me  with  her  forever  and  ever  and  ever.  Then 
she  kisses  me  again,  and  she  tells  me  I  shall  come  to 
her  some  time.  And  that — that  makes  me  know  she  is 
my  really  and  truly  mother.  It  does  not  seem  that  it 
is  all  a  dream,  but  sometimes  I  think  that  I  have  really 
known  that  face,  and  then  it  is  like  a  memory  of  one 
who  has  lived  and  held  her  arms  about  me  and  touched 
my  hair  and  my  eyes  with  her  kisses." 

The  child  stopped  speaking,  her  chin  all  a-quiver, 
her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  a  deep  look  of  longing 
on  her  face. 

Frank  Merriwell  felt  his  heart  swelling  within  him, 


Little  Lotta.  177 

and  he  longed  to  rescue  the  girl  from  the  wretched  life 
she  was  leading. 

"Lotta,"  he  softly  said,  as  he  dropped  on  one  knee 
beside  her,  "I  believe  you  are  right.  I  do  not  think 
Fatima  is  your  truly  mother,  and  I " 

"What's  that?"  cried  a  harsh  voice.  "What  are 
you  telling  the  child  ?  What  business  have  you  in  here, 
artyhow  ?  Git  out,  before  some  of  the  men  break  your 
neck!" 

Frank  leaped  to  his  feet  and  turned  to  find  Mile. 
Fatima  at  hand.  She  was  glaring  at  him  in  a  furious 
manner,  her  painted  lips  drawn  back  from  her  teeth, 
and  her  hands  clinched.  At  that  moment  she  looked 
like  a  crouching  panther  that  was  about  to  spring. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

PEARSON    FINDS    A    MASTER. 

Little  Lotta  uttered  a  cry  of  alarm,  and  her  face 
became  pale  with  fear,  while  she  shrank  away. 

Frank  arose  quickly,  and  turned  to  face  the  woman. 
He  was  about  to  speak,  when  Tom  Fearson  came  rush- 
ing into  the  tent. 

"Here,  Tom — here!"  cried  Fatima,  pointing  to 
Frank.  "Throw  this  meddling  young  wretch  out !" 

"That's  w'at  I  will!"  snarled  the  elephant  trainer; 
"an'  I'll  break  his  face  before  I  throw  him  out!" 

Frank  immediately  realized  that  he  was  in  for 
trouble,  and  he  prepared  to  meet  Fearson. 

For  the  first  time  the  other  men  in  the  tent  began 
to  pay  some  attention  to  the  young  fellow  who  had 
entered  with  Lotta.  Had  he  come  in  alone,  he  would 
have  been  run  out  in  a  hurry,  but  the  child  was  his 
passport,  and  nothing  had  been  said  to  him. 

Fearson  tore  off  his  coat  and  thrust  back  the  sleeves 


Pearson  Finds  a  Master.  179 

of  his  red  shirt,  as  he  advanced  upon  Frank.  His  face 
was  flushed,  but  his  step  was  not  unsteady. 

"Git  out  ther  way,  Mag!"  he  growled,  as  he  caught 
the  woman  by  the  arm,  and  whirled  her  aside.  "I 
want  plenty  o'  room  ter  scatter  that  young  fool  all 
over  ther  tent" 

"Run !"  cried  Little  Lotta,  getting  hold  of  Frank's 
hand — "run,  or  he  will  kill  you!" 

But  the  youth  did  not  seem  at  all  afraid  of  Tom 
Fearson.  Instead  of  running,  he  faced  the  elephant 
trainer  coolly,  and  said: 

"If  you  know  when  you  are  well  off,  you  will  let 
me  alone.  As  sure  as  you  try  to  lay  a  hand  on  me, 
I'll  close  both  of  your  eyes !" 

"Wats  that?"  howled  the  man,  in  astonishment. 
"Do  I  hear  straight?  You — you  close  my  eyes?" 

"That  is  what  I  said." 

Fearson  laughed  hoarsely. 

"Ho !  ho !  ho !  Why,  you  won't  have  time  ter  ketch 
yer  breath  arter  I  git  my  paws  enter  yer !" 

"Oh,  he  will  kill  you !"  again  exclaimed  the  child. 

"Don't  be  afraid,"  said  Frank,  quietly.  "That  will 
not  be  such  an  easy  task  as  he  thinks." 


i8o  Pearson  Finds  a  Master. 

"Go  for  him,  Tom!"  shrilly  cried  the  woman,  eager 
to  witness  the  punishment  of  the  youth. 

Then  Fearson  rushed  at  Frank,  trying  to  grasp  him. 

With  the  utmost  ease,  the  young  athlete  avoided  the 
awkward  man,  slipped  under  his  arm,  at  the  same  time 
giving  Fearson  a  dig  in  the  ribs  that  brought  a  grunt 
of  pain  and  astonishment  from  the  elephant  trainer's 
lips. 

Fearson  snarled  as  he  turned  awkwardly,  and  then, 
without  delay,  made  another  rush  at  Frank. 

Pud — crack!  One  was  a  body  blow,  and  the  other 
landed  on  the  man's  left  eye,  nearly  knocking  him 
down,  and  completely  dazing  him  for  a  moment 

As  Fearson  stood  there,  with  a  hand  pressed  over  his 
eye,  Frank  could  have  finished  him;  but,  feeling  that 
the  man  had  been  drinking,  Merriwell  was  ashamed  to 
strike  him  again. 

The  performers  and  tentmen  gathered  about,  amaze- 
ment expressed  on  their  faces. 

"He's  only  a  boy!"  exclaimed  one.  "How  did  he 
do  it?" 

"If  he'd  known  Fearson,  he'd  never  dared,"  declared 
another. 


Pearson  Finds  a  Master.  181 

"Pearson  will  beat  the  breath  of  life  out  of  the  strip- 
ling's body  before  the  affair  is  over,"  said  a  third. 

"We'll  have  to  look  out  that  he  doesn't  kill  the  boy," 
another  put  in. 

This  caused  Frank  to  smile. 

"Gentlemen,"  he  said,  "you  need  not  be  alarmed. 
Mr.  Pearson  will  not  harm  me  in  the  least." 

"Hey !"  roared  the  trainer,  dropping  his  hand.  "I'll 
tear  yer  heart  out,  that's  what  I  will !" 

Then  he  again  made  a  charge  for  Merriwell. 

The  very  fact  that  he  had  met  such  a  reception  at  the 
hands  of  the  youth  was  enough  to  make  the  man  wild 
with  rage.  He  gnashed  his  teeth,  and  his  eyes  glared, 
while  he  tried  to  beat  down  the  lad  with  his  heavy  fists. 

Frank  parried  the  blows,  and  stopped  the  rush  with 
a  terrible  jolt  that  landed  on  Pearson's  chin.  Then  the 
boy  nailed  the  trainer  in  the  right  eye,  sending  him 
reeling  backward.  Pxclamations  of  astonishment 
broke  from  the  witnesses. 

"He's  a  scrapper !"  cried  one.  "I'll  bet  my  dough  on 
the  youngster!  A  'V  even  that  he  licks  Pearson! 
Who  takes  it?" 

There  was  no  taker. 


1 82  Pearson  Finds  a  Master. 

The  trainer  heard  the  words,  and  they  stung  him  like 
the  cut  of  a  whip.  He  had  been  the  bully  of  the  cir- 
cus. Was  it  possible  he  was  to  be  overthrown  and 
humiliated  by  a  mere  boy? 

Almost  frothing  at  the  mouth,  he  made  a  third  at- 
tempt to  get  at  Frank  Merriwell,  who  was  calmly 
waiting  to  receive  him. 

This  time  Fearson  was  more  cautious.  He  brushed 
his  hand  across  his  eyes,  realizing  that  they  were  be- 
ginning to  swell  already,  and  remembered  Frank's 
promise  to  close  them. 

"I'll  finish  him  before  they  go  out  on  me,"  mut- 
tered the  man,  as  he  tried  to  force  the  fighting. 

But  he  was  unable  to  force  it  much,  for  Frank  was 
nimble  on  his  feet,  and  he  would  come  in  and  give  his 
foe  two  or  three  cracks,  and  then  get  away  without  re- 
ceiving a  blow  in  return. 

The  witnesses  began  to  realize  that  the  youth,  for 
all  of  his  years,  was  a  thoroughly  scientific  fighter,  and 
was  getting  the  best  of  Fearson,  who  employed  noth- 
ing but  brute  force. 

At  last,  Frank  determined  to  end  the  fight  as  quickly 
as  possible,  realizing  Fearson  would  not  give  up  till  he 


Pearson  Finds  a  Master.  183 

was  quite  knocked  out.  Then  he  went  after  the  ele- 
phant trainer  in  a  manner  that  quite  took  away  the 
man's  breath. 

Frank  gave  Pearson  a  genuine  prize-fighter's  thump 
under  the  heart,  and  cracked  him  on  the  jaw  with  the 
other  fist,  sending  the  man  to  the  ground  in  a  quiver- 
ing heap. 

With  a  scream  of  fury,  Fatima  rushed  at  the  youth, 
trying  to  clutch  him  with  her  fingers,  an  expression  of 
the  most  malignant  hatred  on  her  face. 

Fortunately,  that  scream  warned  the  lad,  and  he  man- 
aged to  avoid  her.  She  was  grasped  by  several  of  the 
circus  men,  one  of  whom  said  to  Frank : 

"Take  my  advice  and  skip  out.  You  have  licked 
Fearson,  and  licked  him  fairly;  but  he  is  revengeful, 
and  he  will  not  let  the  matter  drop.  He  will  be  furious 
enough  to  shoot  you,  when  he  comes  around  and  finds 
out  what  has  happened." 

Frank  stooped  beside  Little  Lotta,  and  softly  said : 

"I  am  going  now,  but  I'll  try  to  see  you  again.  Do 
not  forget  me,  dear.  Remember  me  as  your  friend." 

"I'll  never  forget  you,"  she  whispered.  "Oh,  you 
are  so  handsome — so  brave — so  good !  Never — never 


184  Pearson  Finds  a  Master. 

before  have  I  seen  one  like  you!  No,  no!  I'll  not 
forget  you!  But  look  out  for  Fearson.  Good-by." 

"Good-by!" 

Then  Frank  left  the  tent. 

Merriwell  felt  very  well  satisfied  over  what  he  had 
done,  for  he  believed  Tom  Fearson  was  a  brutal  fellow 
who  deserved  the  thrashing  he  had  received. 

Fearson  had  seemed  to  take  delight  in  torturing  Na- 
poleon, the  elephant,  and  this  had  opened  Merriwell's 
eyes  to  the  man's  true  nature. 

Frank  had  heard  that,  at  times,  it  was  an  absolute 
necessity  to  use  hot  iron  on  "rogue"  elephants  in  or- 
der to  conquer  them;  but  it  was  because  Fearson 
seemed  to  rejoice  in  an  opportunity  to  burn  Napoleon 
that  the  boy  had  been  so  disgusted  with  him. 

When  the  man  displayed  his  drunken  brutality 
toward  Little  Lotta  it  was  more  than  Merriwell  could 
endure  and  remain  inactive. 

The  words  of  the  child  as  she  told  him  of  her  dreams 
of  a  mother  she  could  not  remember  had  awakened  in 
'Frank's  heart  a  feeling  of  intense  pity  and  a  desire  to 
take  her  far  away  from  the  soul-dwarfing  life  she  had 
been  compelled  to  lead. 


Pearson  Finds  a  Master.  185 

"If  I  could  do  that,"  thought  the  boy,  "it  would  give 
me  the  greatest  satisfaction.  Is  there  no  way?" 

He  pondered  over  the  question. 

The  crowd  about  the  tents  had  grown  denser,  and 
the  voice  of  the  man  in  front  of  the  side-show  was 
louder  and  more  blatant  than  ever,  as  he  temptingly 
described  the  attractions  to  be  seen  within. 

The  crowd  was  densely  packed  about  the  balloon, 
which  seemed  to  be  straining  and  struggling  with  the 
ropes  that  held  it  to  the  ground,  as  if  eager  to  soar 
away. 

As  Frank  looked,  he  saw  a  man  in  tights  and  span- 
gled trunks  entering  the  basket  of  the  balloon. 

"The  ascension  is  about  to  take  place,"  muttered 
Merriwell,  as  he  hastened  toward  the  spot. 

Of  a  sudden,  his  attention  was  attracted  by  the 
sounds  of  blows,  and  then  came  shrill  cries  in  Toots' 
familiar  voice. 

"G'way,  dar,  yo'  mean  white  raskel!"  screamed  the 
colored  lad.  "What  yo'  doun',  boy?  Marser  Frank 
will  bre'k  ebry  bone  in  yo'  body  when  he  hear  ob  dis  1" 

Frank  hurried  forward,  and,  in  a  moment,  came 


1 86  Pearson  Finds  a  Master. 

upon  a  sight  that  filled  him  with  astonishment  and  un- 
utterable anger. 

On  the  ground  lay  two  battered  and  broken  bicycles, 
and  beside  them  was  a  sledge-hammer,  which  had  been 
dropped  from  the  hands  of  the  one  who  had  ruined  the 
machines  with  a  few  fierce  blows. 

The  person  who  -had  worked  this  ruin  was  Rolf  Har- 
low,  who  had  turned  to  hurry  from  the  locality. 

In  this  manner  Harlow  had  sought  to  get  square  with 
Merriwell  for  exposing  his  crooked  shell  game. 

Snap! — Frank's  teeth  came  together.  Then,  with 
his  eyes  flaming,  he  made  a  rush  for  Harlow. 

It  happened  that  Rolf  saw  Frank  coming,  and  the 
look  on  Merriwell's  face  turned  the  cowardly  fellow's 
blood  cold  in  his  veins.  He  realized  that  he  would  be 
severely  handled  if  Merriwell  succeeded  in  getting  hold 
of  him. 

Wildly  Rolf  looked  around  for  some  means  of  es- 
cape. 

At  that  very  moment  men  were  casting  off  the  last 
rope  that  held  the  balloon  to  the  ground. 

Like  a  flash  Harlow  made  up  his  mind,  and  he  rushed 
for  the  balloon,  with  Frank  in  hot  pursuit. 


Pearson  Finds  a  Master.  187 

Rolf  grasped  the  edge  of  the  basket  to  clamber  into 
it,  and  then  the  rope  was  cast  off. 

Like  a  bird,  the  released  balloon  shot  into  the  air, 
carrying  the  clinging  lad  beyond  Frank's  grasp. 

Frank  barely  missed  Rolf's  feet,  but  he  realized  that 
his  enemy  had  escaped,  and  he  saw  the  man  in  the  car 
get  hold  of  the  boy's  hands  and  drag  him  over  the 
side. 

The  crowd  sent  up  a  roar  that  was  half  a  cheer,  and 
the  aeronaut  gracefully  waved  his  hand,  as  the  balloon 
bore  man  and  boy  away. 

Harlow  bent  over  the  side  of  the  basket,  his  face 
white  but  triumphant,  and  shook  his  fist  in  Merriwell's 
direction. 

Frank  was  disgusted. 

"It's  lucky  for  you  that  you  found  such  a  means  of 
escaping !"  he  muttered,  as  he  turned  to  see  how  much 
damage  had  been  done  to  the  bicycles. 

Toots  was  standing  beside  the  broken  wheels,  in  an 
attitude  of  grief  and  despair.  He  wrung  his  hands  as 
he  saw  Frank  approach. 

"Oh,  Marser  Frank!"  sobbed  the  colored  boy;  "I 
lebber  step  no  mo'  dan  ten  foot  erway!  I  jes'  step 


1 88  Pearson  Finds  a  Master. 

off  a  liT  bit  to  see  de  balloon  go  up,  an'  den  dat  low- 
Idown,  no  'count  white  trash  come  an'  bre'k  de  bi- 
suckles!" 

With  his  hands  on  his  hips,  Frank  surveyed  the 
broken  wheels.  He  saw  that  they  were  ruined. 

"Well,  this  means  that  we'll  have  to  purchase  two 
more  wheels,"  he  said,  paying  very  little  heed  to  Toots. 

"I'll  wo'k  teh  pay  fo'  um,  Marser  Frank,"  said  the 
colored  boy,  quickly.  "It  wur  all  mah  fault.  I  neb- 
ber  dream  anybody  would  do  a  t'ing  teh  dem  bisuckles 
while  de  balloon  was  goin'  up." 

"Well,  Harlow  didn't  do  a  thing  to  them!"  ex- 
claimed Frank,  grimly.  "But  he  had  better  have  a 
care  that  he  doesn't  get  battered  up  like  these  wheels." 

At  this  moment  Browning,  Diamond  and  Rattleton, 
who  had  been  "taking  in  the  sights,"  approached. 
When  they  saw  what  had  happened  and  heard  Frank's 
story,  they  were  wild  with  rage. 

But  Harlow  was  far  beyond  their  reach,  and  all  they 
could  do  was  stand  and  watch  the  balloon  till  it  drifted 
far  away,  becoming  a  mere  speck  in  the  distance. 

"What'll  we  do,  Frank?"  asked  Rattleton.     "Is  this 


Pearson  Finds  a  Master.  189 

going  to  knock  us  out  and  trip  our  spoil — I  mean  spoil 
our  trip?" 

"Not  much,"  came  from  Merriwell's  lips.  "This 
town  should  have  a  bicycle  agency ;  it  is  large  enough. 
We  may  be  able  to  obtain  wheels  here.  If  not,  I  am 
sure  we  can  find  anything  we  want  in  Kansas  City. 
Two  of  our  wheels  are  ruined,  but  the  others  are  all 
right.  Without  a  doubt,  Harlow  intended  to  smash 
them  all,  but  he  was  not  given  time  to  finish  the  dirty 
job.  He  chose  a  fine  time  for  the  job,  just  when  ev- 
erybody's attention  was  attracted  by  the  balloon  ascen- 
sion that  was  to  take  place  in  a  moment." 

"If  we  are  not  able  to  procure  wheels  here,  two  of 
us  will  have  to  travel  by  rail  to  Kansas  City,"  said  Dia- 
mond. 

"That  is  right/' 

"Then  I  suppose  Browning  is  one  who  will  be  sure 
to  make  the  trip  by  rail,"  Harry  observed. 

Then,  to  the  surprise  of  all,  Bruce  said : 

"Not  on  your  life,  children !  I  set  out  to  ride  across 
the  continent  on  a  wheel,  and  'I  propose  to  ride  it. 
When  I  get  back  to  Yale,  the  fellows  will  be  trying  to 
jolly  me  about  making  a  bicycle  trip  in  a  passenger 


190  Pearson  Finds  a  Master. 

coach,  and  I  want  to  tell  them  I  did  not  ride  that  way, 
and  tell  the  truth.  If  one  of  those  broken  wheels  be- 
longs to  me,  I  am  going  to  camp  right  here  in  this 
town  till  I  get  fitted  out  with  another.  That's  what's 
the  matter  with  little  Brucie." 

"Good  boy!"  cried  Frank,  with  satisfaction.  "You 
have  the  right  sort  of  stuff  in  you,  old  man !  They  call 
you  the  laziest  man  at  Yale,  but  there  are  others." 

"Thanks,"  drawled  the  big  fellow.  "I  haven't  any 
small  change." 

Frank  proposed  that  they  take  the  uninjured  wheels 
back  to  the  hotel,  where  they  could  be  locked  up  till 
they  were  needed. 

This  was  done,  and  the  bicycles  were  stored  in  a 
room  where  the  landlord  declared  they  would  be  safe 
from  harm. 

Then  Frank  told  the  boys  of  his  adventure  in  the 
dressing-tent,  and  of  his  encounter  with  Fearson. 

"By  jingoes!"  cried  Rattleton.  "We  tried  to  get 
into  the  tent,  but  they  would  not  admit  us.  We'd 
come  in  anyway,  if  we'd  known  you  were  in  that  kind 
of  a  scrape." 

"You  bet  we  would !"  nodded  the  young  Virginian. 


Pearson  Finds  a  Master.  191 

"Jes'  yo'  stay  wif  us,  Marser  Frank,"  advised  Toots. 
"If  yo'  don't  yo'  enemies  am  gwine  teh  cotch  yeh  suah." 

"One  of  them  is  not  likely  to  trouble  me  again  for 
some  hours,"  smiled  Merriwell.  "Harlow  is  far  away 
by  this  time.  And  I  rather  fancy  Hartwick  will  keep 
away.  As  for  Pearson,  I  do  not  fancy  his  eyes  are  in 
condition  to  see  me  very  well." 

"Isn't  it  rather  remarkable  that  Hartwick  and  Har- 
low should  be  together  out  here?"  asked  Browning. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  Harlow  is  a  gambler,  and  this 
circus  must  have  enabled  him  to  snare  a  great  many 
suckers.  As  for  Hartwick — well,  he's  out  of  college, 
and  he  must  do  something  for  a  living,  so  he  has  cast 
his  fortunes  in  with  those  of  Harlow.  It  is  plain  that 
they  are  standing  together,  and  whacking  up  on  the 
boodle." 

The  boys  left  the  hotel  and  returned  to  the  circus 
ground,  where  they  found  the  ticket  wagon  was  open, 
and  the  ticket-seller  was  making  change,  as  he  sold 
tickets,  with  marvelous  rapidity.  Inside  the  tent  the 
band  was  banging  away,  and  a  great  crowd  was  pour- 
ing in  at  the  entrance. 

The  boys  purchased  tickets,  and  entered  the  tent 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

EVENTS   AT   THE   CIRCUS. 

"The  Monster  Menagerie  of  Wild  and  Savage 
Beasts  from  All  Parts  of  the  Globe"  was  to  be  seen  in 
the  first  tent  entered  by  the  boys.  As  they  walked 
•in,  they  each  were  handed  a  small  bill  by  a  boy  who 
was  stationed  near  the  entrance.  The  small  bills  an- 
nounced a  "Grand  Performance"  to  be  given  in  the 
main  tent  after  the  regular  programme. 

As  they  were  looking  at  the  animals,  Frank  sud- 
denly uttered  a  sharp  exclamation,  and  then  said : 

"Well,  this  thing  is  getting  rather  monotonous,  to 
say  the  least  1" 

"What  is  it  ?"  asked  Diamond,  with  immediate  inter- 
est. 

"Take  a  look  at  this,"  invited  Merriwell,  handing 
him  the  bill. 

On  the  margin  was  some  writing,  and  Jack  read  : 

"This  is  the  third  warning,  Frank  Merriwell,  and 
you  had  better  heed  it.  You  have  made  a  desperate 


Events  at  the  Circus.  193 

enemy  of  Pearson,  and  Hartwick  has  made  a  compact 
with  the  elephant  trainer  to  do  you  up.  You  may  not 
escape  with  your  life  from  this  tent  unless  you  go  at 
once.  A  FRIEND/' 

"Well,  say !"  said  Jack,  "certainly  this  is  getting  tire- 
some !  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  ?" 

"See  the  boy  who  gave  me  this  bill." 

Back  to  the  boy  at  the  entrance  went  Frank,  followed 
by  the  others,  but  not  the  least  satisfaction  could  he  get 
out  of  the  youth,  who  positively  declared  that  he  knew 
nothing  of  the  writing  on  the  margin  of  the  small  bill, 
and  could  not  explain  how  it  came  there.  He  said  he 
simply  had  given  Frank  a  bill,  the  same  as  the  others 
who  came  in,  and  had  seen  no  writing  upon  it." 

"It  is  plain  that  he  won't  tell,"  said  Frank,  in  dis- 
gust, as  he  turned  away,  "and  that  settles  it." 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  ?"  asked  Jack. 

"Nothing." 

"You  will  pay  no  attention  to  the  warning?" 

"Certainly  not." 

"You  had  better  peep  your  eyes  keeled — I  mean  keep 
your  eyes  peeled,"  said  Rattleton,  hurriedly.  "It  is 
pretty  certain  that  your  enemies  are  active,  and  it  would 


194  Events  at  the  Circus. 

not  surprise  me  to  learn  that  it  is  true  that  Hartwick 
has  hired  Pearson  to  kill  you.  I  do  not  believe  Evan 
Hartwick  would  hesitate  at  that,  though  he  might  not 
-have  the  nerve  to  try  the  job  himself." 

"You  do  not  seem  to  have  a  very  good  opinion  of 
Hartwick,"  smiled  Frank. 

"Good  opinion  of  him !"  snorted  Harry.  "Why,  he 
is  the  biggest  scoundrel  I  ever  knew  in  all  my  life !" 

"He  is  quite  a  ruffian,"  acknowledged  Merriwell. 
"I  have  had  other  enemies,  but  I  think  Hartwick  the 
meanest  of  them  all.  Beside  him,  Roland  Ditson,  who 
was  almost  the  first  to  try  to  do  me  dirt  when  I  entered 
Yale,  seems  like  a  puppy  dog." 

"Did  you  ever  notice  that  Evan  Hartwick  and  Fred 
Flemming,  who  became  your  enemy  after  you  were 
rivals  for  a  position  on  the  Varsity  eight,  are  very 
much  alike  in  looks  and  disposition?"  asked  Diamond. 

"Yes,  I  have  noticed  it,"  nodded  Frank ;  "but  I  do 
not  think  Flemming  would  carry  his  hatred  quite  as 
far  as  Hartwick." 

"I  don't  know  about  that.     He  is  a  reckless  fellow." 

"That  is  true,  but  it  seems  to  me  that  Hartwick,  in 
an  intense  fit  of  fury,  might  not  hesitate  at  the  greatest 


Events  at  the  Circus.  195 

of  crimes,  while  Flemming  would  not  go  beyond  a  cer- 
tain limit." 

"You  may  be  right,  but  I  fancy  Flemming  sets  that 
limit  pretty  high.  It  is  almost  a  dead  sure  thing  that 
he  hired  the  ruffians  to  kidnap  you,  in  order  to  keep  you 
from  running  at  the  Madison  Square  Garden  tourna- 
ment, Frank." 

"Yes,  I  believe  Flemming  was  at  the  bottom  of  that 
job,  but  he  made  a  fizzle  of  it;  and  it  may  be  that  he 
will  drop  the  fight  when  I  get  back  to  college." 

"Don't  fool  yourself  in  that  way,"  drawled  Brown- 
ing. "Mr.  Flemming  will  be  on  hand,  and  he'll  con- 
tinue to  be  your  enemy." 

"He  should  take  warning  by  what  befell  Hartwick. 
If  he  wishes  to  remain  at  Yale,  he'd  better  go  slow." 

At  last,  they  came  to  the  elephant.  Poor  Napoleon 
was  standing  behind  his  rope,  slowly  and  monotonously 
swinging  his  trunk,  while  he  swayed  from  side  to  side 
in  a  manner  that  indicated  he  was  still  in  great  pain 
from  the  burns  he  had  received  some  hours  before. 

"It  seems  a  shame  to  treat  any  sort  of  a  beast  in  such 
a  manner,"  said  Harry.  "I  wonder  that  he  should  be- 
come so  docile  after  being  burned  that  way." 


196  Events  at  the  Circus. 

"It  is  rather  singular,"  said  Jack. 

"Dat  elumfunt  ain't  so  docile  as  he  might  be,  chil- 
luns,"  declared  Toots,  as  he  remained  at  a  distance. 
"Jes'  yo'  tek  a  look  at  -his  odder  eye.  Land  ob  water- 
millions  !  but  de  berry  ole  debbil  am  in  dat  eye,  suah's 
yeh  bawn !" 

"He  has  a  bad  look  in  his  eyes,"  nodded  Frank. 
"They  say  elephants  never  forget,  and  I  do  not  believe 
he  will  forget  the  treatment  he  has  received  this  day." 

"Don*  yeh  get  too  neah  dat  elumfunt,  Marser 
Frank,"  warned  Toots.  "He's  gwan  teh  use  somebody 
rough  befo'  long,  an'  he  might  tek  eh  noshun  teh  swat 
yo'  with  dat  tail  he  kerries  on  der  front  end  ob  him." 

At  this  moment,  having  seen  the  boys  near  the  ropes, 
Tom  Fearson  came  forward.  His  face  showed  that  he 
had  "been  up  against  something  hard,"  for  both  his 
eyes  were  nearly  "buttoned  up."  Seeing  Frank,  he 
caught  up  a  bar  of  iron,  such  as  had  been  used  to  burn 
the  elephant,  and  started  for  the  lad  he  hated. 

Napoleon  saw  Fearson  catch  up  that  iron,  and  it  is 
certain  that  the  great  beast  fancied  it  was  to  be  tortured 
once  more.     Quick  as  a  flash,  the  elephant  sent  '* 
trunk  coiling  around  Fearson. 


Events  at  the  Circus.  197 

Then  came  a  shout  of  terror  from  the  trainer's  lips 
— a  shout  that  electrified  those  who  heard  it.  The 
man  dropped  the  iron  bar,  as  he  was  swung  aloft  by 
the  elephant's  trunk. 

Then  Fearson  was  dashed  to  the  ground  with  terrific 
force,  and  he  lay  there  stunned,  unable  to  get  away. 

Slowly,  and  with  murderous  intent,  the  elephant 
reared  its  great  form,  lifting  its  forward  feet  from  the 
ground. 

Frank  realized  that  the  creature  intended  to  bring 
those  feet  down  upon  the  helpless  man,  which  would 
crush  the  life  out  of  Pearson's  body  in  an  instant. 

It  seemed  that  Frank  moved  with  the  quickness  of 
thought  itself.  Under  the  rope  he  plunged,  caught 
the  trainer  by  the  collar,  and  dragged  him  away. 

Just  in  time.  Down  came  the  elephant's  feet,  miss- 
ing the  intended  victim  by  a  narrow  margin. 

Then  men  rushed  forward  and  forced  Napoleon 
back,  while  Frank  carried  the  trainer  still  farther  from 
the  dangerous  point,  taking  him  beyond  the  elephant's 
sight. 

Some  of  the  circus  hands  aided  Merriwell  to  take 


198  Events  at  the  Circus. 

Pearson  into  the  dressing-tent,  and  there  the  man  was 
stretched  on  a  blanket  that  was  spread  on  the  ground. 

The  trainer  was  conscious,  and  his  half-closed  eyes 
seemed  to  be  turned  toward  the  boy  who  had  saved  his 
life.  His  lips  moved,  but  nothing  save  an  inarticulate 
mumbling  sound  came  from  them.  That  mumbling 
sounded  like  a  curse. 

"He  is  not  grateful  because  you  saved  his  life, 
Merry,"  said  Diamond,  who,  with  the  other  boys,  had 
followed  Frank  into  the  tent. 

"It  makes  no  difference,"  said  Merriwell,  quietly. 
"He  is  a  human  being,  and  I  would  do  it  again,  under 
the  same  circumstances." 

It  seemed  that  a  queer  look  passed  over  Pearson's 
bruised  face,  but  this  time  he  did  not  mumble. 

Not  a  few  of  the  men  about  showed  a  sort  of  satis- 
faction over  the  fate  that  had  befallen  the  trainer.  They 
had  disliked  him,  some  had  hated  him,  nearly  all  had 
feared  him. 

A  doctor  was  sent  for,  and  Pearson  was  left  lying 
on  his  blanket — alone. 

Having  seen  the  trainer  carried  into  the  dressing- 
tent,  the  boys  returned  to  the  big  tent.  There  the  ex- 


Events  at  the  Circus.  199 

citement  caused  by  the  catastrophe  had  calmed  down 
somewhat. 

It  was  announced  that  the  performance  in  the  "great 
ring"  was  about  to  begin,  and  they  hastened  to  secure 
seats. 

Then  came  the  grand  parade  of  all  the  performers. 
It  was  "grand"  in  name  only,  andjvas  similar  to  nearly 
all  such  parades,  with  which  most  traveling  circuses 
open  their  performances. 

After  the  parade  there  was  some  bareback  riding  of 
a  decidedly  inferior  order,  but  it  seemed  to  satisfy  the 
audience. 

Two  clowns  came  out  and  perpetrated  the  same 
moldy  gags  that  clowns  have  persisted  in  inflicting  on 
a  long-suffering  and  inoffensive  public  for  the  last  fifty 
years  or  more. 

Men  and  women  jumped  through  paper-covered 
hoops,  horses  jumped  five-barred  gates,  which  were 
held  at  such  a  slant  that  a  tired  tortoise  might  have 
made  a  bluff  at  jumping  them,  and  everybody  cried 
hoop-la!  and  pretended  it  was  very  marvelous  and  as- 
tonishing. 


2oo  Events  at  the  Circus. 

The  same  little  jackass  came  out  and  capered  around 
the  ring,  and  the  ringmaster  offered  the  same  old  hun- 
dred dollars  to  any  man  who  would  ride  the  jackass, 
and  the  same  fake  countryman  came  lumbering  over 
the  circle  of  dirt  and  fell  onto  the  sawdust,  after  which 
he  went  through  the  same  chestnutty  business  of  trying 
to  ride  and  being  thrown  off,  till  he  lay  down  on  the 
little  animal's  back,  locking  his  legs  about  its  neck  and 
his  arms  about  its  body,  with  his  head  toward  its  tail, 
in  which  manner  he  rode  around  the  ring  with  the  same 
success  as  usual. 

"Well,  say!"  laughed  Frank,  "it  is  the  old  game 
from  start  to  finish.  Toots  seems  to  find  it  funny." 

The  colored  boy  was  roaring  with  laughter,  clinging 
to  his  sides,  and  rocking  forward  and  backward. 

"Gracious  sakes  to  goodness!"  gasped  Toots.  "I 
nebber  seen  nuffm'  lek  dat !  Shoo  fly,  chilluns !  Wha's 
de  matter  wid  yo'  ?  Yo'  don'  seem  happy  at  all." 

After  a  time,  Prof.  Wallace,  Fatima  and  Little  Lotta 
were  announced,  in  their  marvelous  an'd  astounding 
aerial  feats  on  the  flying  trapeze. 

"^rank  caught  his  breath. 


Events  at  the  Circus.  201 

"I  don't  feel  like  staying  to  see  this,"  he  declared. 
"I  am  afraid  it  will  be  too  much  for  my  nerves." 

But  he  remained,  although  his  face  was  very  pale 
when  the  man  and  woman,  dressed  in  fleshings,  came 
running  into  the  ring,  with  the  little  girl  between  them. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
LITTLE  LOTTA'S  LAST  APPEARANCE. 

The  trapeze  performers  received  a  round  of  ap- 
plause, which  caused  them  to  bow  and  kiss  their 
hands,  Little  Lotta  doing  so  in  a  manner  that  made 
Frank  think  her  heart  was  filled  with  pain,  although  she 
had  forced  a  smile  to  her  face. 

"It's  a  shame!"  muttered  Merriwell,  clinching  his 
hands.  "Such  a  thing  should  not  be  allowed!" 

"Right,"  nodded  Diamond.  "She  should  be  attend- 
ing school,  instead  of  doing  such  business  as  this." 

"I  do  not  believe  she  is  in  condition  to  perform  to- 
day," said  Frank.  "I  think  she  still  feels  the  injury 
she  received  when  she  slid  down  the  wire,  and  I'll  wager 
anything  she  has  been  forced  into  this  against  her 
will." 

"Dat  am  what  I  call  a  scand'lus  shame,"  put  in 
Toots. 

Mile.  Fatima  was  first  drawn  up  to  the  swinging  bar, 


Little  Lotta's  Last  Appearance.       203 

and  then  the  child  followed,  while  "the  professor" 
came  last. 

Then  they  began  to  give  their  part  of  the  exhibition, 
.which  was  far  superior  in  merit  to  that  which  had  pre- 
ceded. Some  of  their  feats  were  first  class,  and  Frank 
held  his  breath  as  he  saw  Little  Lotta  tossed  about  in 
the  air  as  if  the  distance  to  the  ground  were  but  a  few 
inches. 

"Some  time  she'll  fall,  and  that  will  finish  her," 
whispered  Harry  Rattleton.  "Why  don't  they  have  a 
net  below  them?" 

"They  should  have,"  said  Frank.  "It  is  rank  care- 
lessness to  do  their  act  in  this  manner.  There  are 
some  men  down  there,  but  the  chances  are  they  would 
not  break  the  child's  fall  if  she  came  down.  She'd 
strike  the  ground  before Oh !" 

There  was  a  shriek,  a  small  body  shooting  through 
the  air,  and  a  shuddering  gasp  of  horror  from  the  spell- 
bound spectators.  It  was  all  over  in  a  moment. 

Little  Lotta  had  fallen. 

She  had  been  partly  caught  by  one  of  the  men  below, 
but  he  had  not  caught  her  fairly,  and  she  lay  in  a  quiet 
heap  of  pink  upon  the  ground. 


204       Little  Lotta's  Last  Appearance. 

Women  shrieked  and  covered  their  eyes,  while  men 
groaned  and  cursed.  The  great  crowd  was  horror- 
stricken. 

Frank  seemed  to  move  quicker  than  the  circus  hands 
themselves.  Down  from  his  seat  he  leaped,  and  over 
into  the  ring  he  went.  He  stooped  and  gathered  the 
child  in  his  arms,  his  face  even  whiter  than  the  face 
that  was  framed  by  those  yellow  curls.  Her  eyes  were 
open,  and  she  saw  him — recognized  him. 

"It's  come  at  last !"  she  whispered.  "I  am  going  to 
meet  her  now — the  dear,  dear  mother  of  whom  I 
dreamed  so  often !  I  saw  her  face  as  I  fell,  and  I  heard 
her  call  me !  I'll  not  be  tired  any  more,  for  I  shall  rest 
in  her  arms." 

Tears  blinded  Frank's  eyes,  and  his  heart  arose  in 
his  throat  and  choked  him. 

"No,  no,  Little  Lotta!"  he  panted.  "You  shall  not 
die,  if  doctors  can  save  you!  You  shall  have  the  best 
of  attendance,  no  matter  what  it  costs!" 

"I  don't  want  to  live,  dear  friend,"  she  faintly  re- 
turned. "I  do  not  care  to  live  and  continue  the  old  life. 
It  is  too  hard  and  cruel.  I'd  rather  die,  and  go  to  my 
dear  mother  who  loves  me  so." 


Little  Lotta's  Last  Appearance.        205 

"If  you  live,  you  shall  not  continue  the  old  life!  I 
swear  it !  I  will  find  a  way  to  take  you  from  it !" 

Then  a  rough  man  grasped  him  by  the  shoulder,  and 
other  men  tried  to  take  the  little  girl  from  him;  but 
she  let  her  arms  slip  around  his  neck,  and  entreated :. 

"Do  not  let  me  go,  dear  friend !     Hold  me  tight !" 

"Lead  the  way,"  said  Frank  to  the  men.  "I  will 
follow." 

And,  rather  than  produce  a  scene,  they  permitted  him 
to  bear  her  from  the  great  tent  into  the  dressing-tent. 

Fortunately,  the  doctor  who  had  attended  Tom  Fear- 
son  was  still  on  hand,  and  he  made  a  hasty  examination 
of  the  child's  injuries. 

"Left  leg  and  two  ribs  broken,"  he  said.  "She  may 
be  injured  internally.  Doubtful  if  she'll  ever  perform 
again." 

Prof.  Wallace  and  Fatima  heard  the  words.     The    . 
man  cursed  like  a  pirate,  while  the  woman  snarled : 

"The  little  fool !  Why  should  she  fall  like  that,  and 
take  the  bread  and  butter  out  of  our  mouths !" 

"Brutes!"  muttered  Frank  Merriwell. 

Then  he  gave  directions  that  the  girl  be  taken  to  the 
best  hotel  in  town,  and  given  the  very  best  room. 


206       Little  Lotta's  Last  Appearance. 

"You'll  have  to  pay  the  bills,"  sneered  Prof.  Wal- 
lace. "You  needn't  think  we're  going  to  foot  the  bills 
for  any  such  luxuries  for  the  little  brat !" 

Frank's  anger  flamed  forth. 

"Don't  you  worry  about  that,  sir !"  he  cried.'  "I  will 
pay  the  bills.  As  for  you  and  this  woman  with  you, 
you  should  be  in  the  penitentiary  for  causing  the  child's 
injuries  and  possible  death !" 

Lotta  was  removed  to  the  hotel,  and  Frank  soon  had 
all  three  of  the  physicians  in  the  place  at  work  over  her. 
While  he  was  waiting  outside  the  room  to  learn  of  their 
success,  he  was  astonished  to  see  a  lad  whom  he  knew 
suddenly  appear  before  him. 

It  was  Tom  Thornton,  a  Yale  student  who  had  been 
Frank's  enemy  in  other  days,  although  he  had  given 
his  promise  to  trouble  Merriwell  no  more. 

"Hello !"  cried  Merry,  showing  his  surprise.  "You, 
too?  Then  three  of  my  old  enemies  are  here,  instead 
of  two." 

"I  acknowledge  that  I  was  your  enemy  once,"  said 
Thornton ;  "but  I  have  tried  to  befriend  you  of  late.  I 
warned  you  of  a  plot  against  you  in  New  York,  al- 


Little  Lotta's  Last  Appearance.        207 

though  you  took  no  stock  in  it,  and  I  have  warned  you 
several  times  since  you  struck  this  place." 

"Then  you  are  the  unknown  'Friend'  who  has  been 
sending  me  warnings?  Well,  this  is  a  surprise!" 

"Yes,  I  have  sent  you  the  warnings,  and  I  rathei 
fancy  you  found  they  were  true." 

"But  why  did  you  keep  out  of  sight  in  such  a  man- 
ner?" 

"Because  you  did  not  believe  me  when  you  heard 
my  warning  in  New  York,  and  you  said  you  would  not 
trust  me.  I  thought  you  would  not  trust  me  now,  if 
you  knew  I  sent  the  warnings." 

"But  how  do  you  happen  to  be  out  here,  anyway?" 

"I  am  traveling  with  the  circus  during  vacation,  the 
same  as  Hartwick  and  Harlow." 

"Well,  what  do  you  want  of  me  now?" 

"Tom  Fearson  begged  me  to  come  and  tell  you  he 
wanted  to  see  you.  Fearson  thinks  he  is  going  to  die." 

Frank  hesitated.  The  thought  came  to  him  that  it 
might  be  a  trick,  but  that  simply  spurred  him  to  go. 

"Lead  on,"  he  said.  "If  this  is  some  sort  of  crooked 
game,  look  out  for  yourself,  that  is  all !" 

Thornton  was  evidently  hurt. 


2o8       Little  Lotta's  Last  Appearance. 

"That  shows  you  do  not  trust  me  even  now!"  he 
cried.  "Well,  I  have  done  everything  in  my  power  to 
prove  to  you  that  I  am  your  friend." 

Frank  followed  Tom  back  to  the  dressing-tent  of  the 
circus.  On  the  way,  Thornton  told  Merriwell  that  the 
balloonist  and  Rolf  Harlow  had  been  heard  from  by  tel- 
egraph, having  reached  a  nearby  town.  In  descend- 
ing, they  had  met  with  some  thrilling  experiences,  and 
Harlow  had  been  so  severely  injured  that  he  would  be 
confined  to  a  bed  for  two  weeks,  at  least. 

On  hearing  this  Merriwell  displayed  not  a  sign  of 
triumph.  He  did  not  gloat  over  the  misfortunes  of  an 
enemy. 

Reaching  the  dressing-tent,  Frank  found  Fearson 
stretched  on  the  blanket,  and  it  was  plain  that  he  was  in 
great  pain.  Frank  stooped  beside  the  blanket,  and 
spoke  to  the  trainer. 

"Is  it  you?"  muttered  Fearson,  thickly,  as  he  opened 
his  eyes.  "I  didn't  know  as  ye'd  come,  but  I  wanted 
ter  see  yer.  They  say  I'm  liable  ter  die,  an'  I  want  ter 
ask  yer  forgiveness.  I  was  drunk,  an'  I've  got  a  bad 
temper  anyway.  Will  yer  fergive  me,  youngster?" 

"I  will,  my  poor  fellow!"  said  Merriwell.     "I  am 


Little  Lotta's  Last  Appearance.        209 

sure  that  you  have  been  punished  more  than  you  de- 
serve." 

"I  dunno  'bout  that.  I  was  mad  enough  ter  kill  ye, 
and  that  chap  Hartwick  said  he'd  give  me  five  hundred 
dollars  if  I'd  do  it.  I  wanted  ter  tell  ye  ter  look  out  fer 
him." 

"Oh,  I'll  do  that!" 

"I've  seen  him  sence  I  was  hurt,  an'  I  tole  him  I'd 
lick  ther  stuffin'  out  of  him  if  I  ever  got  well.  I  ruther 
think  he's  left  the  circus  a' ready.  An'  ye're  sure  ye 
fergive  me,  boy?" 

"Yes,  I  forgive  you  freely." 

"Then  let  me  touch  yer  hand.  You're  white,  an* 
you're  all  right.  I  feel  better  now.  Dunno  but  I'll 
try  ter  git  well." 

Little  Lotta  did  not  die,  although  she  was  injured  so 
severely  that  she  was  confined  to  a  bed  of  pain  for  a 
long  time,  and  the  circus  went  on  without  her. 

Frank  saw  that  the  child  should  have  the  very  best 
of  care,  having  obtained  as  nurse  for  her  a  widow,  who 
had  lost  a  little  girl  of  her  own. 

During  Lotta's  illness  the  widow  became  so  attached 
to  the  child  that  she  wished  to  adopt  her,  and  legal  ar- 


210       Little  Lotta's  Last  Appearance. 

rangements  to  that  effect  were  finally  completed.  The 
little  waif  had  at  last  found  a  good  home. 

Lotta  clung  to  Frank,  when  he  was  bidding  her  good- 
by,  the  time  having  come  for  him  to  resume  his  journey 
across  the  continent. 

"I'm  going  to  try  to  get  well  because  you  want  me 
to,  dear  friend,"  she  said.  "Only  I  don't  want  to  go 
back  to  the  old  life  again." 

"You  shall  not  go  back,  Little  Lotta,"  promised  Mer- 
riwell.  "They  have  abandoned  you  here,  and  I'll  take 
care  that  they  do  not  trouble  you  again." 

"And  must  you  leave  me  so  soon  ?" 

"Yes,  dear,  I  must  go  now;  but  I  promise  that  I'll 
stop  and  see  you  on  my  way  back  East.  After  that — 
well,  who  knows  ?  we  may  see  more  of  each  other  than 
you  think  possible  now." 

"You  are  so  good!"  sobbed  the  child,  drawing  him 
down  and  kissing  him,  while  she  smiled  through  her 
tears.  "You  are  the  goodest  fellow  I  ever  knew.  I 
didn't  suppose  there  could  be  anybody  so  good  in  all 
the  world !  And  I  am  happy !" 

"I  am  glad  you  are  happy/'  said  Frank;  and  then 
he  and  the  little  girl  parted. 


Little  Lotta's  Last  Appearance.       211 

A  day  later  the  bicycle  boys  left  that  town  and  con- 
tinued their  journey  westward. 

Harry  was  anxious  to  see  some  of  the  prairie  lands 
of  Kansas,  and  so  they  turned  from  Missouri  into  the 
State  mentioned. 

For  several  days  nothing  out  of  the  ordinary  hap- 
pened and  they  made  good  progress  toward  the  end  of 
the  tour. 

At  a  village  called  Melton  they  heard  of  some  cattle 
thieves,  but  gave  the  matter  no  attention.  The  "rus- 
tlers," as  they  were  called,  had  been  in  that  neighbor- 
hood, but  were  now  gone. 

On  the  day  after  leaving  Melton  they  struck  fairly 
and  squarely  across  the  rich  prairies. 

Frank  was  soon  in  advance,  and  a  spurt  of  speed 
took  him  out  of  sight  of  his  chums. 

And  it  was  then  that  he  ran  up  against  an  adventure 
as  odd  as  any  that  had  gone  before. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

TESS. 

"Look  out  thar,  tenderfoot!" 

The  cry  was  uttered  in  a  clear,  strong  girlish  voice. 

Frank  did  not  need  the  warning,  for  already  was  he 
aware  of  his  danger,  having  seen  the  "long-horn"  break 
from  the  herd  of  cattle  and  come  charging  toward  him. 

Quickly  Frank  turned  his  wheel  and  started  to  pedal 
away,  but,  rapid  though  his  movements  were,  the  en- 
raged steer  was  right  upon  him  before  he  was  fairly 
started  in  flight. 

Besides  the  sound  of  the  steer's  hoofs,  there  came  an- 
other sound,  as  of  a  galloping  horse,  and  the  boy's  side- 
long backward  glance  showed  him  a  girl,  mounted  on  a 
chunky,  ewe-necked  bronco,  riding  straight  at  the 
steer,  and  swinging  a  lasso  about  her  head. 

It  did  not  seem  possible  to  Frank  Merriwell  that  the 
girl  could  succeed  in  stopping  the  steer,  and  then  it  was 
that  he  longed  for  some  weapon  with  which  he  could 
bring  the  animal  down. 


Tess.  2 1 3 

There  was  fire  in  the  glaring  eyes  of  the  maddened 
"long-horn,"  and  the  creature  seemed  coming  with  the 
speed  of  the  wind. 

Frank  caught  his  breath,  expecting  to  be  sent  flying 
from  the  saddle  of  his  bicycle,  tossed  in  the  air,  dropped 
in  a  senseless  heap  to  the  ground,  perhaps  trodden  and 
cut  by  those  cleft  hoofs. 

The  clear  eye  of  the  girl  on  the  bronco  were  fas- 
tened on  the  steer,  and  there  was  a  look  of  resolution 
on  her  sun-tanned,  wind-kissed  face. 

With  the  skill  of  a  veteran  cowboy,  the  girl  sent  the 
noose  flying  through  the  air,  and  it  dropped  over  the 
horns  of  the  steer. 

In  a  moment  the  bronco,  well  trained  to  its  work, 
wheeled  and  braced  itself  for  the  shock. 

Not  a  moment  too  soon  was  the  steer  roped,  for  its 
horns  almost  touched  Frank's  sleeve  before  the  lariat 
came  taut  with  a  twang  like  a  bowstring. 

In  a  twinkling  the  steer  was  flung  to  the  ground, 
and  the  shock  of  its  fall  told  the  flying  boy  that  his  peril 
was  over  for  the  moment. 

He  turned  to  the  left,  and  swung  around  so  he  could 
see  what  was  taking  place. 


214  Tess. 

He  saw  the  girl  leap  from  the  saddle  with  a  swish 
of  short  skirts,  bound  like  a  fawn  to  the  side  of  the 
steer,  and  throw  off  the  noose  with  a  deft  movement. 

And  then,  before  the  partly-stunned  and  wholly-be- 
wildered animal  could  regain  its  feet,  she  was  back  in 
the  saddle,  which  she  regained  with  a  quickness  and 
ease  that  fairly  took  away  the  breath  of  the  watching 
boy. 

"What  are  yer  doin',  tenderfoot?"  she  cried,  as  she 
saw  Frank  had  turned  his  wheel  about.  "If  yer  knows 
when  yer  head's  level,  ye'll  shove  that  bike  o'  yourn 
fer  tall  timber  about  as  fast  as  your  legs  kin  make  ther 
old  machine  travel!  It's  mighty  dangerous  fer  any 
galoot  who  don't  know  better  than  to  come  rarin' 
round  a  herd  of  cattle  on  one  o'  them  things." 

She  was  decidedly  pretty  in  a  wild  sort  of  way,  being 
dressed  in  a  suit  of  buckskin,  with  fringe  trimmings, 
and  wearing  a  short  skirt  and  jacket,  while  on  her  head 
was  a  wide-brimmed  Mexican  hat.  A  leather  holster, 
containing  a  revolver,  was  strapped  to  her  waist.  Her 
hair  and  eyes  were  dark,  while  her  lips  were  red,  and 
there  was  a  chic,  piquant,  saucy  look  about  her  face. 

Frank  was  attracted  by  the  girl's  rather  bewitching 


Tess.  215 

appearance,  and  was  surprised  by  the  dexterity  she  had 
displayed  in  casting  the  lariat  and  throwing  the  steer. 

In  a  moment  the  girl  reined  her  bronco  toward  the 
young  bicyclist,  having  drawn  in  and  coiled  the  rope 
with  a  swiftness  and  skill  that  was  little  short  of  aston- 
ishing. 

She  dashed  to  Frank's  side,  giving  him  a  strange 
look,  in  which  he  fancied  there  was  something  of  pity 
and  contempt. 

"However  did  yer  come  ter  be  chasin'  round  a  herd 
o'  long-horns  on  that  bike?"  she  asked.  "It  'pears  ter 
me  as  how  you  oughter  knowed  better'n  ter  come 
foolin'  round  a  bunch  o'  Kansas  steers  in  such  a  way. 
Whar's  yer  sense?" 

Frank  laughed. 

"From  your  very  plain  words  an'd  manner,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  you  fancy  I  have  no  sense,"  he  said. 

"Wa-al,  I  won't  allow  ye've  got  any  ter  give  erway, 
You'll  need  it  all,  ef  yer  travels  round  this  yar  coun- 
try on  a  bike  much,  an'  that's  a  fact." 

"Thank  you,  miss.  But  I  assure  you  I  am  not  afraid 
of  being  tossed  by  a  long-horn  if  I  have  a  fair  start  and 
a  clear  field.  The  steer  would  have  done  the  trick  but 


216  less. 

for  you,  I  freely  confess ;  but  it  was  because  I  was  taken 
by  surprise,  as  it  broke  away  from  the  herd  and  came  at 
me  without  warning." 

The  girl's  red  lips  curled  in  a  smile  of  derision. 

"Go  on!"  she  cried.  "It's  plain  you  don't  know 
much  about  long-horns.  They're  blamed  cantankerous 
critters  when  they  git  started,  an'  they  kin  run  like  a 
streak  o'  greased  wind." 

"And  you  think  I  could  not  ride  fast  enough  to  keep 
out  of  the  way  of  one  of  them  ?" 

"That's  whatever." 

"Well,"  smiled  the  boy,  "you  may  be  right,  but  I  am 
able  to  push  this  wheel  at  a  comfortable  rate  of  speed." 

"I  rather  reckon  you  think  a  Kansas  steer  runs  about 
as  fast  as  an  Eastern  cow.  Wa-al,  they  kin  cover 
ground  a  little  faster — just  a  little!" 

Then  Frank  laughed  outright. 

"Really,"  he  said,  "it  is  plain  that  you  take  me  for 
the  tenderest  sort  of  a  tenderfoot.  All  right ;  I'm  not 
kicking.  Let  it  go  at  that.  You  saved  my  life,  I 
think,  and  I  want  to  thank  you  for  it." 

"Oh,  that  wuz  nothin'." 

"I  don't  know  as  I  consider  that  complimentary,  but 


Tess.  217 

never  mind.  I  suppose  the  life  of  a  tenderfoot  isn't 
considered  of  much  value  out  here." 

"Wa-al,  it  depends.  Thar's  Blake,  he  wuz  a  tender- 
foot when  he  struck  ther  ranch,  an'  now  he's  about  as 
good  a  puncher  as  paw  has." 

"Who's  Blake?" 

"Oh,  he's  an  Eastern  galoot,  an'  all  he  seemed  ter 
know  at  first  wuz  Greek  an'  Latin,  an'  that  sort  o'  stuff. 
He  had  a  right  smart  education,  but  education  o'  that 
sort  don't  count  in  a  round-up,  none  whatever." 

"It  is  barely  possible  that  I  might  become  as  good  a 
man  as  Blake,  if  I  chose  to  settle  down  on  a  ranch  and 
become  a  cowboy,  eh  ?" 

"Ter  be  honest  with  yer,  tenderfoot,  it's  a  heap 
doubtful.  Ye're  too  young.  Wait  till  yer  kin  raise 
a  whisker  before  ye  try  ter  turn  cow-puncher." 

Frank  laughed  again. 

"All  right,"  he  said;  "I  will  take  your  advice.  I 
trust  you  will  pardon  me  if  I  introduce  myself.  I  am 
Frank  Merriwell,  from  the  East,  as  you  know." 

"An'  I'm  Tess  Morgan,  o'  ther  'MM'  Ranch.  My 
paw  owns  ther  'MM,'  an'  these  cattle  hyar  belong  ter 
him.  Them  are  his  punchers  over  yander  thar,"  with 


2i8  less. 

a  sweep  of  her  hand  toward  some  ranchmen  who  were 
patroling  the  outskirts  of  the  herd. 

"I  am  very  glad  to  know  you,  Miss  Morgan,"  said 
Merriwell,  gracefully  lifting  his  cap.  "But  why  are  so 
many  cowboys  watching  this  herd?" 

"Mebbe  it's  a  round-up." 

"This  is  not  the  right  season  for  that." 

Tess  opened  her  eyes. 

"How  do  you  know  that  ?"  she  asked. 

"Well,  it  is  one  of  the  things  I  happen  to  know,  that's 
all." 

This  did  not  seem  to  satisfy  the  girl,  and  she  scowled 
a  bit. 

"Ye' re  right,"  she  admitted.  "I  dunno's  I  mind  tell- 
in'  yer.  It's  this  way :  Paw  has  been  troubled  by  rus- 
tlers of  late.  They've  been  runnin'  off  his  stock,  an* 
he's  been  gittin'  his  critters  tergether  o'  late,  ter  find  out 
jest  how  hard  he's  been  hit.  That's  all." 

"That  explains  it.  We  are  heading  for  your  father's 
ranch,  hoping  to  find  accommodations  there  for  the 
night." 

"We?    Who's  we?" 

"My  friends  and  myself." 


less.  219 

"Whar  are  yer  friends?" 

"Coming  back  there.  I  scorched  on  ahead  of  them, 
having  seen  the  herd  and  the  cowboys,  intending  to  ask 
the  way  to  the  ranch." 

The  girl  looked  in  the  direction  indicated  by  Frank's 
gesture  and  far  away  she  saw  Frank's  friends,  the  sun- 
light glinting  brightly  on  the  nickel  plating  of  their 
wheels. 

"So  thar  are  five  o'  yer?"  said  Tess.  "Wa-al,  I 
dunno.  Paw  never  turns  anybody  erway,  an'  I  reckon 
he'll  keep  yer  somehow ;  but  yer  won't  have  all  ther  lux- 
uries o'  feather  beds  an'  them  things,  not  by  a  heap." 

"Oh,  I  think  we'll  manage  to  get  along,  for  all  of 
that,"  said  Frank,  pleasantly.  "We  are  used  to  rough- 
ing it." 

"How  fur  have  yer  rid  on  them  bikes?" 

"From  New  York." 

"Wh-h-h-at?" 

Tess  was  astonished,  as  she  plainly  showed. 

"Say!"  she  cried,  her  eyes  flashing,  "whatever  d'yer 
take  me  f er  ?  Don't  try  that  sort  of  a  bluff  on  me,  Mr. 
Merriwell !" 

"But,"  said  Frank,  gravely,  "I  assure  you  it  is  no 


220  Tess. 

bluff.  I  speak  the  truth.  We  are  college  students, 
from  Yale,  and  we  started  from  City  Hall,  New  York, 
to  ride  to  City  Hall,  San  Francisco.  We  have  pro- 
gressed thus  far." 

"Wa-al,  may  Ibederned!" 

It  was  a  rather  rough  expression,  but  Frank  was 
willing  to  make  allowances  for  this  girl,  who  seemed 
to  be  a  wild  flower  of  the  plains.  He  felt  that  she  had 
been  raised  amid  rough  men,  from  whose  lips  she  had 
heard  such  language,  and  thus  she  had  fallen  into  the 
habit  of  expressing  herself  forcibly,  without  being 
aware  that  it  was  rude  and  unladylike. 

"How  fur  have  yer  rid  on  them  bikes?"  she  asked, 
"an'  how  fur  have  yer  rid  on  ther  cars?" 

"We  have  not  ridden  on  the  cars  at  all  yet,"  declared 
Frank. 

She  shook  her  head  in  a  doubtful  way,  but  did  not 
say  outright  that  she  did  not  believe  him.  She  might 
as  well,  however,  and  she  saw  a  flush  of  color  mount  to 
his  cheeks,  although  he  said  nothing. 

At  this  moment  something  like  a  wild  yell  came  to 
their  ears,  and,  looking  up,  he  saw  three  cowboys  ra- 


less.  221 

cing  toward  the  approaching  bicyclists  as  fast  as  their 
broncos  would  carry  them. 

Tess  saw  it,  and  she  cried : 

"Your  friends  will  be  in  trouble  directly,  you  bet! 
Come  on,  tenderfoot !" 

And  away  she  sped  in  the  direction  of  the  cowboys, 
with  Frank  flying  along  behind  her. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

AN    ENCOUNTER   WITH    COWBOYS. 

It  was  a  short,  wild  race,  and  it  brought  a  revelation 
to  the  cattleman's  daughter,  for  she  did  not  run  away 
from  Frank  Merriwell,  as  she  expected. 

Instead  of  that,  Frank  forged  along  at  her  side,  and 
then  took  the  lead,  although  he  was  forced  to  strain 
every  muscle  to  do  so. 

"I'm  blamed  if  that  don't  beat  me!"  exclaimed  the 
girl. 

Whooping  loudly,  the  three  cowboys  charged  down 
upon  the  young  cyclists.  One  of  the  three,  a  tall,  lank 
fellow,  known  as  "Hannah,"  although  his  real  name 
was  Hannibal  Jones,  took  the  lead. 

The  boys  saw  the  cowboys  coming,  and  for  some  time 
they  hesitated  about  the  move  they  should  make.  At 
last  it  was  plain  they  grew  alarmed  and  they  turned  to 
ride  away. 

But  the  punchers  were  near  at  hand,  and  Hannah  un- 


An  Encounter  with  Cowboys.        223 

slung  his  lasso,  whirling  it  round  and  round  his  head, 
with  the  plain  intention  of  making  a  cast. 

Toots,  the  colored  boy,  was  behind  the  others,  and  he 
cast  a  frightened  look  over  his  shoulder,  gasping  : 

"Goodness  sakes  teh  gracious!  I's  a  daid  nigger, 
suah's  yeh  bawn !" 

Then  the  writhing  lariat  flew  through  the  air,  and 
the  noose  fell  over  the  colored  boy's  shoulders. 

In  a  moment  Toots  had  been  snatched  from  the  bi- 
cycle, and  he  struck  the  ground  with  a  heavy  thump 
that  knocked  the  breath  from  his  body. 

HannaH  laughed  hoarsely,  and  the  other  cowboys 
shouted  with  wild  delight,  as  if  this  sort  of  sport  suited 
them  very  well. 

Then  it  was  that,  flying  along  at  full  speed,  Frank 
Merriwell  dashed  straight  at  the  taut  lariat,  made  a 
slash  at  it,  and  cut  it  in  twain  with  a  keen  knife  held  in 
his  hand. 

Tess  was  close  behind  Frank,  and  she  shouted  at  the 

cowboys,  who  were  on  the  point  of  attempting  to  lasso 

, 
others  of  the  bicyclists,  her  voice  ringing  out  clear  and 

distinct : 

"Hold  hard  thar,  you  critters !    Don't  ye  git  so  free 


224       An  Encounter  with  Cowboys. 

with  yer  ropes!  I'll  shoot  ther  corners  off  ther  next 
galoot  as  tries  it!  You  hear  me  warble!" 

She  whirled  in  front  of  them,  her  eyes  flashing,  her 
cheeks  flushed,  and  her  dark  hair  streaming  unbound 
in  the  wind. 

They  knew  her,  and  they  heard  her  command. 
There  was  no  hesitation  about  obeying,  although  Han- 
nah muttered  something  like  a  curse  beneath  his  breath, 
as  he  surveyed  his  ruined  rope. 

Toots  sat  up  and  looked  around,  his  black  face  hav- 
ing a  sort  of  ashen  color  that  plainly  denoted  terror, 
and  his  eyes  rolling,  while  his  white  teeth  chattered 
together. 

"Bress  mah  soul!"  he  gasped.  "Wha'— wha's  dis 
dat's  done  got  me  'roun'  de  body?  Some  ol'  thing 
cotch  me  fo'  suah !" 

Then  he  saw  Frank  was  on  hand,  and  it  gave  him  a 
feeling  of  relief. 

"If  dey  fool  wif  dat  boy,  dey's  gwan  teh  git  hurt  fo' 
certun,"  he  said,  with  the  utmost  confidence  in  Merri- 
well's  prowess.  "He  ain't  gwan  teh  stan'  no  foolin'." 

The  cowboys  touched  their  hats  to  Tess,  but  Hannah 
growled : 


An  Encounter  with  Cowboys.        225 

"Look  yar,  Miss  Morgan;  see  how  that  galoot  has 
cut  my  rope.  He's  spoiled  it,  an'  I  propose  ter  shoot 
ther  tires  o'  his  old  machine  full  o'  holes." 

He  whipped  out  a  revolver,  but,  quick  as  were  his 
movements,  Tess  was  swifter,  and  the  revolver  left  the 
holster  at  her  side  for  her  gloved  hand. 

"Hold  hard,  I  tell  yer!"  came  clear  as  the  note  of  a 
bell  from  her  lips,  and  the  muzzle  of  the  weapon  fell  to 
a  level  with  the  angry  cowboy's  heart.  "I  have  ther 
drop  on  yer,  Hannah,  an'  I'll  ventilate  yer  sure  if  yer 
pulls  trigger  once !" 

The  cowboy  let  his  hand  fall,  a  shade  of  pallor  corn- 
ing to  his  weather-tanned  face. 

"All  right,  ef  yer  says  so,  miss,"  he  said,  sulkily.  "I 
wouldn't  hurt  ther  tenderfoot ;  but  he's  spoiled  my  rope, 
an'  I  wuz  goin'  ter  git  squar'." 

"He  did  right  in  cuttin'  ther  rope,"  declared  the  girl. 
"He  done  it  before  me  because  he  reached  it  first.  Ye 
had  no  business  ter  use  ther  rope  ther  way  yer  did." 

"But  I  didn't  want  ter  use  my  gun,  miss,"  said  Han- 
nah, apologetically,  "an*  looker  ther  thing  I  saw — a 
nigger  ridin'  a  bisuckle !  I  reckon  I  hed  a  right  ter  rope 
ther  critter!" 


226       An  Encounter  with  Cowboys. 

"Ther  nigger  belongs  to  Mr.  Merriwell's  party,  an' 
that  wuz  why  Mr.  Merriwell  cut  ther  rope,  which  he 
had  a  perfect  right  ter  do.  You  wuz  ter  blame,  Han- 
nah, an'  so  ye'll  have  ter  stan'  ther  loss  o'  yer  rope. 
That's  all." 

The  cowboy's  eyes  fell,  and  it  seemed  that  he  longed 
to  mutter  something,  but  did  not  dare  do  so  before  her. 
Then  he  looked  up,  and  gave  Frank  a  glance  that  dis- 
tinctly said : 

"Never  mind,  tenderfoot,  there's  another  time  com- 
ing, and  I'll  get  square  with  you  then." 

Tess  saw  that  look,  and  she  understood,  for  she 
flashed  forth: 

"Be  careful,  Hannah !  Ef  yer  touch  him  any  other 
time,  I  shall  know  of  it." 

Frank  had  stopped  as  soon  as  possible  after  cutting 
the  lariat,  turned  about,  and  ridden  back  fearlessly. 
He  heard  all  that  passed  between  the  girl  and  the  angry 
cowboy. 

"Thank  you,  Miss  Morgan,"  he  said ;  "but  if  Han- 
nah will  give  me  a  fair  show,  I  rather  think  I  am  able 
to  take  care  of  myself.  I  am  not  armed  with  a  gun, 


Aii  Encounter  with  Cowboys.        227 

and  so  he  has  the  advantage  of  me,  but  I  shall  not  run 
away  if  he  will  put  aside  the  weapon." 

Hannah  gasped  for  breath,  and  the  other  cowboys 
laughed  hoarsely  and  derisively. 

"Why,  dern  your  hide ! — beggin'  your  pardon,  Miss 
Morgan,"  said  Hannah.  "I'd  break  yer  clean  in  two 
with  one  hand  tied  behind  me,  ef  I  took  a  noshun,  ten- 
derfoot." 

"You  think  you  would,"  smiled  Frank,  easily;  "but 
you  might  fool  yourself.  The  job  might  not  be  as  easy 
as  it  looks." 

Browning,  Diamond  and  Rattleton  had  turned  about 
and  come  back.  They  dismounted  and  stood  beside 
Frank. 

"Why,  I  could  lick  ther  hull  gang  o'  yer,  an'  not  hafe 
try,"  declared  Hannah.  "It  w'u'dn't  bother  me  ter  do 
it — none  whatever." 

"Let  him  try  it!"  palpitated  Diamond,  whose  dark 
face  bore  a  flush  of  anger.  "Just  ask  him  to  get  down 
and  wade  in !  We  will  knock  the  wind  out  of  him  in 
about  three  seconds." 

"You  sing  loud,  Hannah,"  said  Frank;  "but  your 
voice  is  cracked.  If  you  ever  should  tackle  the  job 


228       An  Encounter  with  Cowboys. 

you  have  just  mentioned,  there  wouldn't  be  enough  of 
you  left  to  wipe  out  a  Winchester  with  when  we  were 
through  with  you.  As  far  as  that  goes,  I  do  not  need 
any  assistance  in  dealing  with  such  as  you  on  even 
terms." 

Something  like  a  scornful  laugh  broke  from  the 
ranchman's  daughter,  and  she  cried: 

"I  don't  reckon  you  know  much  about  Hannah,  Mr. 
Merriwell.  He  has  a  record  as  a  bad  man.  Yer 
wouldn't  be  a  flea-bite  fer  him." 

"Now,  don'  yeh  mek  no  mistake  'bout  dat,  miss!" 
cried  Toots.  "Yo'  is  talkin'  dat  way  beca'se  yo'  don* 
know  Frank  Merriwell." 

"Shet  up,  nigger!"  ordered  one  of  the  men,  sav- 
agely. "If  you  dare  speak  to  Miss  Morgan  again,  I'll 
start  a  lead  mine  in  yer  carcass !" 

A  shining  weapon  was  pointed  in  Toots'  direction, 
and  the  colored  boy  dropped  on  his  knees,  again  filled 
with  terror. 

"Don'  yo'  shoot!"  he  squealed,  imploringly.  "Don' 
yo'  waste  po'dah  an'  lead  on  a  po'  wufless  nigger !  If 
yo'  does,  yo'll  be  sorry  fo'  it  suah !" 

Tess  uttered  a  sharp  command,  and  the  cowboy  re- 


An  Encounter  with  Cowboys.        229 

luctantly  put  up  his  "gun,"  giving  the  colored  boy  a 
black  scowl. 

"Bress  mah  soul !"  mumbled  Toots,  again  getting  to 
his  feet.  "Fs  suah  teh  git  damaged  if  dis  keep  up! 
Nebber  see  no  sech  white  men  as  dere  am  out  in  dis 
country — nebber!  I's  gwan  teh  git  out  ob  dis  Ian' 
jes'  ez  quick  ez  de  Law'd  let  me.  Dis  ain't  no  place 
for  a  brack  gemman  ob  colah." 

Hannah  seemed  reluctant  to  go  away  without  having 
further  words  with  Frank,  but  Tess  gave  him  an  order 
that  he  did  not  care  to  disobey,  and  so,  with  apparent 
dissatisfaction,  he  turned  his  pony  and  rode  off,  fol- 
lowed by  the  others. 

"The  big  ruffian !"  said  Jack,  boldly.  "He  should  be 
taught  a  lesson!  He  needs  to  be  taken  down  a  bit.' 

"But  you  bet  yer  boots  thar  ain't  no  man  as  cares 
ter  try  ter  take  Hannah  down,"  declared  the  girl. 

"Well,  I  pity  the  nerve  of  the  men  out  this  way!" 
cried  Diamond. 

"That's  because  ye're  a  tenderfoot,  an'  yer  don't 
know  what  ye're  talkin'  about,"  said  Tess,  sharply, 
plainly  not  pleased  with  the  young  Virginian's  words 
or  manner. 


230       An  Encounter  with  Cowboys. 

"Perhaps  not,"  admitted  Diamond;  "but  I  know  that 
such  a  fellow  as  Mr.  Hannah  would  last  about  three 
seconds  anywhere  in  the  East.  He'd  get  the  wind 
taken  out  of  him  so  quick  that  he  would  be  liable  to 
show  some  respect  for  a  tenderfoot  after  that." 

Frank  smiled,  for  he  saw  the  Virginian  was  aroused, 
and  he  well  knew  Jack's  impulsive  disposition. 

"Oh,  all  right!"  smiled  the  cattleman's  daughter, 
rather  scornfully.  "You  are  welcome  to  think  that 
way.  Tenderfeet  have  some  queer  ideas." 

Frank  then  proceeded  to  introduce  his  friends  to  the 
girl.  They  lifted  their  caps,  bowing  low  to  her,  and 
she  said: 

"If  you  are  on  the  way  to  the  'MM/  I  rather  reckon 
I'd  better  go  'long  with  yer,  fer  ther  punchers  might 
take  a  noshun  ter  have  some  more  fun  with  yer,  ef  ye 
wuz  alone." 

"We  shall  be  delighted  with  your  company,  Miss 
Morgan,"  bowed  Frank.  "It  is  not  often  we  find  such 
a  charming  guide  out  this  way." 

"Waugh !"  cried  Tess.  "That's  slosh !  Don't  give 
us  any  o'  that,  if  yer  please !  I  don't  like  it." 


An  Encouuter  with  Cowboys.       231 

"But  I  assure  you  that  I  am  in  earnest.  Miss  Mor- 
gan." 

Frank  was  very  grave  now,  and  his  eyes  spoke  far 
more  than  his  lips.  Something  about  him  seemed  to 
fascinate  her,  and  she  regarded  him  with  far  greater 
interest  than  at  any  previous  time.  After  a  bit,  she 
turned,  with  a  toss  of  her  saucy  head,  muttering: 

"Blamed  ef  it  ain't  too  bad  he's  only  a  tenderfoot !" 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A    HARVARD    "MAN/' 

The  "MM"  Ranch  was  so  situated  that  it  was  not 
seen  till  the  boys  were  within  a  mile  of  it,  as  the  coun- 
try was  rolling,  and  the  ranch  had  been  built  between 
two  swells. 

It  was  a  large,  low  building,  with  a  broad  veranda  in 
front.  Behind  it,  a  short  distance  away,  were  outbuild- 
ings and  corrals. 

As  the  party  approached  a  man  rode  out  to  meet 
them 

It  was  Miles  Morgan,  who,  as  the  boys  afterward 
learned,  was  known  throughout  Western  Kansas  as  a 
"cattle  king,"  being  one  of  the  most  extensive  cattle 
raisers  in  the  State. 

He  was  a  large  man,  plainly  dressed,  with  long- 
legged  horse-hide  boots,  a  wide-brimmed  hat,  and 
serviceable,  but  ill-fitting,  clothing.  He  was  roughly 
bearded,  and  his  hair  was  long. 

Indeed,  Morgan  looked  little  like  a  wealthy  man,  who 


A  Harvard  ''Man."  233 

owned  thousands  of  cattle  and  large  numbers  of  fine 
horses. 

He  regarded  the  young  bicyclists  searchingly  but 
not  unkindly,  and,  when  within  comfortable  speaking 
distance,  quietly  addressed  Tess : 

"Whatever  have  you  found,  Brown  Bird?" 

The  boys  afterward  learned  that  "Brown  Bird"  was 
his  pet  name  for  her. 

"A  whole  menagerie,  paw,"  she  laughed,  in  answer. 

"Wheejiz!"  gurgled  Harry  Rattleton.  "She's  the 
most  complimentary  young  lady  I  ever  saw !" 

"She  is  rather  outspoken,"  murmured  Browning. 

"She  jes'  don*  seem  teh  care  a  rap  fo'  a  pusson's 
feelings,"  put  in  Toots.  "Saiz  anything  dat  pops  inteh 
her  haid." 

"What  are  they  doing  out  this  way?"  asked  Miles 
Morgan,  still  surveying  the  boys  with  curiosity. 

"Tryin'  ter  git  theirselves  killed  by  cayvortin'  roun' 
ther  range,  an'  mixin'  with  steers  an'  cow-punchers, 
paw,"  laughed  Tess. 

"Well,  they  won't  have  much  trouble,  if  that's  what 
they're  looking  for,"  returned  the  cattle  raiser. 


234  A  Harvard  "Man." 

"Land  ob  water-millions !"  groaned  the  colored  boy. 
"What  do  dat  mean,  mo'  trouble  fo'  us?" 

Morgan  swung  alongside  the  little  party,  and  Tess 
introduced  them  in  a  general  way,  ending  by  explaining 
that  they  were  on  their  way  to  the  "MM"  Ranch, 
where  they  hoped  to  find  accommodations  for  the  night. 

"We  are  not  in  the  habit  of  turnin'  anybody  away 
from  ther  ranch,"  said  the  cattleman;  "and  their  com- 
pany will  be  very  acceptable,  if  they  can  put  up  with  our 
accommodations. " 

"It  is  plain  that,  like  your  daughter,  you  fancy  we 
are  not  accustomed  to  roughing  it,  simply  because  we 
are  tenderfeet,  as  you  call  us,"  said  Frank.  "I  assure 
you  that  we  shall  be  very  grateful  for  any  kind  of  ac- 
commodations." 

"You  shall  have  the  best  we  can  give  you,"  bowed 
Morgan;  "but,  as  you  must  know,  we  do  not  put  on 
much  style  away  out  here,  and  we  have  very  few  lux- 
uries." 

"We  are  not  looking  for  luxuries." 

As  they  approached  the  ranch  the  owner  blew  a  blast 
on  a  silver  whistle,  and  two  men  came  running  around 
the  corner. 


A  Harvard  "Man."  235 

"Here,  Grogan  and  Carter,"  said  Morgan,  "take 
charge  of  these  bicycles,  and  see  that  you  handle  them 
like  they  were  made  of  glass." 

"The  colored  boy  will  go  along  with  them  to  see  that 
the  wheels  are  properly  cared  for,"  said  Frank. 

"Very  well." 

The  party  had  dismounted,  and  the  wheels  were 
turned  over  to  the  two  men  and  Toots.  As  they  started 
around  the  building  the  negro  lad  paused  to  whisper  to 
Frank : 

"Bar's  no  tellin'  what  de  cowmen  will  do  to  me, 
Marser  Frank.  If  yo'  nebber  sees  me  no  mo',  hullo." 

Then  he  went  sadly  and  falteringly  around  the 
corner. 

There  were  a  few  comfortable  chairs  on  the  veranda, 
and  the  rancher  asked  them  to  sit  down  there,  which 
they  did.  Tess  had  ridden  around  the  house  with  the 
horses. 

In  a  short  time  the  boys  were  chatting  pleasantly  with 
Miles  Morgan,  whom  they  found  a  well-educated  and 
well-informed  man,  although  he  sometimes  fell  into  the 
vernacular  of  the  cattle  range. 


236  A  Harvard  "Man." 

To  Frank  it  seemed  remarkable  that  such  a  man 
should  have  a  daughter  as  illiterate  as  Tess  seemed  to 
.  be.  Certainly  he  must  realize  and  understand  the  ad- 
vantages of  an  education,  which  made  it  a  wonder  that 
he  had  not  attempted  to  have  the  girl  educated. 

He  questioned  them  about  their  trip,  and  expressed 
a  hope  that  they  reached  San  Francisco  in  safety,  but 
told  them  they  were  certain  to  meet  with  many  perils  in 
the  great  West. 

While  they  were  talking,  a  young  fellow  in  a  blazer 
and  straw  hat  came  loafing  out  by  the  front  door.  He 
wore  a  white  silk  shirt,  which  was  beautifully  stitched 
in  colors,  and  a  four-in-hand  tie  was  knotted  under  the 
collar.  His  trousers  were  snowy-white  and  beautifully 
creased,  while  polished  russet  shoes  were  on  his  feet. 
In  his  tie  flashed  a  beautiful  pin,  and  there  were  sev- 
eral rings  on  his  fingers.  Clinging  to  his  lips  in  a  limp 
way  was  a  paper-covered  cigarette. 

"Sasust  grakes — I  mean  gracious  sakes!"  gasped 
Rattleton,  as  he  stared  at  the  youth,  who  had  paused  to 
stare  in  a  languid  way  at  the  visitors. 

"Young  gentlemen,"  said  Miles  Morgan,  "permit  me 
to  introduce  my  son  Elmer.  Elmer  has  lately  returned 


A  Harvard  "Man."  237 

from  the  East,  where  he  has  been  attending  Harvard 
College." 

"A-a-aw!"  drawled  the  youth  with  the  cigarette. 
"This  is  a  weal  surpwise,  don't  yer  'now.  I  didn't  'now 
there  was  any  one  out  heah." 

The  cattle  king  gave  the  names  of  the  four  lads  on 
the  veranda,  all  of  whom  arose  and  bowed  to  Elmer, 
who  made  a  stiff-necked  bow  in  return. 

"Weally,"  said  the  young  dude,  staring  at  the  large 
white  letter  "Y"  on  the  breasts  of  the  young  bicyclists' 
sweaters.  "I  wondah  what  that  stands  faw?" 

"Yale!"  cried  the  boys  in  chorus. 

Elmer  elevated  his  eyebrows,  and  something  like  a 
look  of  disdain  settled  on  his  haughty  face. 

"A-a-aw!"  he  drawled.  "Yale  nothin'."  The  Old 
Ni " 

"Hold  on!"  shouted  Rattleton,  leaping  to  his  feet 
"Stop  right  there!  We  have  heard  that  from  every 
Harvard  Willie  we  ever  met,  and  it  is  getting  monoto- 
nous. It  is  stale,  and  we  are  sick  of  hearing  you  fel- 
lows warble,  'Yale  nothin' !  Take  my  advice,  and  riv 
us  a  guest — I  mean  give  us  a  rest." 

"Good  gwacious!"  came  in  languid  astonishment 


2)8  A  Harvard  "Man." 

from  Elmer's  lips.  "How  verwy  violent  in  your  lan- 
guage and  mannaws  you  awe,  thir!" 

"That  is  not  nearly  as  violent  as  I  am  liable  to  be- 
come if  you  make  any  disparaging  remarks  about  Old 
Eli,"  shot  back  Harry,  who  was  fully  aroused.  "That 
is  something  I  can't  stand." 

"You  Yale  fellaws  awe  always  verwy  wude  and  im- 
pulsive, don't  yer  'now,"  said  the  cattleman's  son,  as 
he  took  out  a  silver  cigarette  case  and  extracted  another 
roll,  which  he  lighted  from  the  half-smoked  one  that 
had  appeared  with  him.  "You  have  not  the  weserve 
and  culchaw  that  is  to  be  acquired  in  the  classic  shades 
of  Hawvard." 

"A-a-aw !"  drawled  the  four  Yale  lads,  in  chorus. 

Frank  laughed  aloud,  although  he  feared  Miles  Mor- 
gan might  be  offended.  There  was  something  so  ludi- 
crous about  it  all  that  Frank  could  not  repress  his 
merriment. 

But  it  actually  seemed  that  there  was  something  like 
a  twinkle  in  the  cattle  king's  eyes,  although  he  kept  his 
face  very  grave  and  expressionless. 

Elmer  gave  the  "sons  of  Old  Eli"  a  stare,  and  then 
said: 


A  Harvard  "Man."  239 

"That  is  pwoof  of  your  wudeness  and  lack  awve 
mannahs,  don't  yer  'now.  You  awe  to  be  pitied." 

"That  sounds  fine,"  said  Harry;  "but  I  notice  poor 
old  Harvard  needs  pity  whenever  she  stacks  up  against 
Yale." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  Hawvard  has  the  honah  of 
winning  most  awve  the  debates,  my  deah  fellow." 

"But  that  is  all  she  ever  does  win,  flashed  Diamond. 

"At  baseball  she  is  a  back  number,  her  eleven  are  a 
lot  of  nerveless,  flabby  kids,  and  her  crew  has  water 
on  the  brain.  I  don't  see  where  Harvard  comes  in, 
anyway." 

"Haw!  She  has  the  men  awve  bwains,  don't  yer 
see,  my  poor  fellaw !  A  common  hod-carrier  can  play 
bawl,  or  pull  an  oah,  but  it  takes  bwains  to  win  a  de- 
bate." 

"I  presume  he  considers  himself  a  sample  of  the  men 
of  brains  to  be  found  in  Harvard,"  Diamond  whispered 
in  Browning's  ear. 

Bruce  grunted,  and  that  grunt  was  very  expressive. 

"We  are  willing  Harvard  should  keep  on  winning 
debates,  as  long  as  we  win  at  everything  else,"  said 
Frank. 


240  A  Harvard  "Man." 

Elmer  surveyed  Merriwell  in  a  supercilious  manner. 

"Let  me  see,"  he  drawled,  "I  did  not  catch  youah 
name.  I  wondah  what  you  hawve  evah  done?" 

"My  name  is  Frank  Merriwell." 

"A-a-a-aw !  By  Jawve !  You  don't  say !  It  cawn't 
be  you  awe  the  Merriwell  that  pitches  on  the  Yale 
nine?" 

"I  believe  I  am  the  only  Merriwell  who  has  ever 
pitched  for  Yale." 

"Good  gwacious!     And  you  wow  on  the  crew?" 

"Yes,  I  rowed  against  Harvard  when  we  beat  her 
this  spring." 

"Great  Scawt !  And  you  awe  the  fellaw  who  made 
the  wonderful  wun  in  the  football  game  against  Prince- 
ton last  fawl?" 

"I  am." 

"A-a-a-aw!     E-e-e-er!     Is — it — pawsible?" 

Elmer  actually  gasped  for  breath,  much  to  Frank's 
amusement.  Then,  turning  to  the  cattleman,  the  young 
man  said : 

"Fawther,  give  Mr.  Merriwell  the  very  best  the 
wanch  affawds.  It  is  the  gweatest  possible  honar  to 
have  him  faw  a  visitor,  don't  yer  'now." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

A     HARD     BLOW. 

"Well,  the  fellow  has  a  little  sense,  after  all!"  Harry 
whispered  to  Browning.  "I  didn't  suppose  he  knew 
enough  to  appreciate  Merry's  fine  points." 

Bruce  grunted  again,  but  this  time  it  was  a  satisfied 
sound. 

Mr.  Morgan  did  not  seem  to  be  greatly  impressed. 

"It  is  all  right  to  talk  about  playing  ball,  rowing,  and 
running  in  a  football  game,"  came  with  surprising 
gruffness  from  his  lips;  "but  I  hardly  think  that  kind 
of  business  will  make  a  man  of  a  youngster.  It  takes 
rough  knocks  in  the  battle  of  life  to  put  real  stamina 
into  a  lad.  Mr.  Merriwell  may  be  famous  in  East- 
ern college  circles,  but  I  hardly  think  he  would  make 
much  of  a  showing  out  here  on  a  ranch  among  the 
rough  men  of  this  country." 

Frank  smiled  in  a  quiet  manner. 

"You  may  be  right,  sir,"  he  admitted.  "The  life 
out  here  and  the  life  of  the  East  are  vastly  different." 


342  A  Hard  Blow. 

Jack  Diamond  was  about  to  say  something  when 
there  came  a  sudden  sound  of  shots  from  the  rear  of 
the  ranch,  mingled  with  wild  yells  of  fear  or  pain. 

The  boys  sprang  to  their  feet. 

"It's  Toots!"  cried  Frank. 

Then  he  leaped  from  the  veranda,  and  dashed  around 
the  corner,  followed  by  the  others. 

As  he  came  around  behind  the  ranch,  Frank  saw  a 
red-headed  cowboy,  who  was  making  Toots  dance  to 
the  tune  of  pistol  shots.  The  cowboy  held  a  long- 
barreled  revolver  in  either  hand,  and  he  was  sending 
bullets  into  the  ground  around  the  colored  lad's  feet. 

At  a  little  distance  stood  other  cowboys,  all  of  whom 
were  laughing  heartily  at  the  coon's  wild  leaps  and 
terrified  yells. 

"Dance,  you  onery  black  son  of  a  gun !"  roared  the 
cowboy  with  the  revolvers.  "Whoop  'er  up,  you 
chunk  o'  darkness  from  ther  bottomless  pit!  Git  up 
••an'  claw  ther  air,  you  coal-colored  relic  o'  Darkest 
Afriky!" 

"Fo'  de  Lawd's  sakes,  don't  you*  shoot  me  no  mo' !" 
howled  Toots.  "I  nebber  meant  nuffin',  sar!  Oh, 
Lordy !  dis  nigger  am  a  goner  dis  time  fo'  suah !" 


A  Hard  Blow.  243 

"I'll  larn  yer  ter  tell  me  that  yer  master'll  break  my 
back  ef  anything  happens  ter  yer  old  bisuckles !"  shouted 
the  red-headed  cowboy,  as  he  shot  off  a  piece  of  leather 
from  the  heel  of  one  of  Toots'  shoes.  "Wat  d'yer 
s'pose  I  care  fer  yer  tenderfoot  master?  Why,  ef  he 
wuz  hyar,  I'd  make  him  dance  ther  same  as  I'm  makin' 
you!" 

By  this  time  Frank  had  reached  the  cowboy,  whom 
he  approached  from  behind.  Reaching  around  the 
man,  the  college  lad  grasped  the  revolvers  and  wrenched 
them  from  the  owner's  hands  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye.  Then  he  turned  and  flung  them  to  the  ground, 
facing  the  astonished  "puncher,"  as  that  worthy  whirled 
about. 

"I  rather  think  we've  had  quite  enough  of  this  kind 
of  business,"  said  Frank,  calmly  and  firmly,  his  eyes 
meeting  those  of  the  bewildered  cowboy. 

The  man  seemed  unable  to  believe  the  evidence  of  his 
senses.  Was  it  possible  a  boy,  a  tenderfoot,  had  dared 
wrench  his  "guns"  from  his  hands  and  speak  to  him 
in  such  a  manner? 

"Hey?"  cried  the  red-headed  man,  glaring  and 
showing  his  teeth.  "Why,  dern  my  gizzard !" 


244  A  Hard  Blow. 

"Good  gwacious!"  gasped  Elmer  Morgan.  "It's 
Grogan,  and  he  will  hurt  Mr.  Merriwell.  Fawther, 
you  must  stop  it !" 

Miles  Morgan  was  on  the  point  of  interfering,  when, 
with  a  snarl  of  rage,  Grogan  drew  back  his  fist  and 
struck  at  Frank. 

Then  something  intensely  astounding  happened. 

Merriwell  warded  off  the  blow  with  ease,  and,  like 
a  flash  of  lightning,  with  the  force  of  a  miniature  pile- 
driver,  he  sent  his  fist  into  the  ruffian's  face. 

The  back  of  Grogan' s  head  struck  the  ground  first 
at  a  distance  of  at  least  twelve  feet  from  where  the 
young  college  athlete  stood.  The  cowboy  lay  at  full 
length  on  the  ground,  and  made  no  immediate  at- 
tempt to  arise. 

Frank  had  fully  realized  that  he  was  dealing  with  a 
"very  bad  man,"  and  he  had  used  all  the  strength  and 
skill  he  could  command  in  delivering  that  blow. 

Merriwell's  fist  had  fallen  on  Grogan's  jaw  with 
frightful  force,  so  that  it  seemed  that  the  bones  broke 
beneath  the  clinched  knuckles. 

A  gasp  of  wonder  that  seemed  positive  unbelief  es- 
caped the  lips  of  the  cowboys  who  were  spectators. 


A  Hard  Blow.  245 

Never  had  they  seen  a  prettier  knockout  blow,  and 
they  could  not  understand  that  a  lad  like  this  stripling 
in  a  bicycle  suit  could  hit  Eli  Grogan  hard  enough  to 
"put  him  to  sleep"  in  a  moment. 

And  no  one  present  was  more  astonished  than  Miles 
Morgan,  who  was  on  the  point  of  interfering,  with  a 
view  of  saving  the  rash  and  over-confident  young  man. 

The  cattle  king  fully  expected  to  see  the  fallen  cow- 
boy spring  up  and  make  a  dash  for  the  college  lad ;  but 
nothing  of  the  kind  occurred. 

Toots'  dance  of  terror  suddenly  changed  to  a  wild 
caper  of  joy. 

"Dar!"  he  cried;  "didn'  I  done  tole  yo',  yo'  low- 
down,  no-'count  white  trash !  Dat  am  Frank  Merri- 
well  yeh  run  again'  dat  time,  ma-an !  Guess  yo'll  know 
'nuff  teh  look  out  fo'  him  de  nex'  time." 

"Wa-al,  may  I  be  derned!"  exploded  one  cowboy. 

"Hang  me  fer  a  hoss  thief  ef  I  ever  seen  anything 
like  that !"  came  from  another. 

"However  did  ther  tenderfoot  do  it?"  blankly  in- 
quired a  third. 

"Bub-bub-by  Jawve!"  gasped  Elmer  Morgan,  drop- 
ping his  cigarette,  and  standing  with  his  mouth  and 


246  \  Hard  Blow. 

eyes  open  to  their  widest.  "I  wuther  weckon  Mr.  Mer- 
riwell  must  be  able  to  fight  as  well  as  he  does  anything 
else,  don't  yer  'now." 

"Oh,  that's  nothing  for  him,"  languidly  declared 
Bruce  Browning,  who  had  succeeded  in  getting  around 
the  corner  in  time  to  witness  the  blow.  "He  only  gave 
the  fellow  a  light  jog  on  the  jaw.  If  he'd  hit  him  in 
earnest,  Mr.  Cowboy'd  never  tossed  another  rope." 

"You — don't — thay !" 

"Young  man,"  said  the  cattle  king,  soberly,  "I  advise 
you  to  go  into  the  house  as  soon  as  possible." 

"Why,  sir?"  Frank  quietly  asked. 

"Because  Grogan  will  be  like  a  madman  when  he 
recovers,  and  he'll  feel  like  shedding  your  gore." 

"He  weally  will,  don't  yer  'now!"  put  in  Elmer. 

"Well,  as  I  am  unarmed,  I  do  not  care  to  stand  up 
and  let  Mr.  Grogan  shoot  at  me,  but  I  am  not  going  to 
run  away,  and  he'll  be  able  to  find  me  when  he  wants 
to  see  me." 

Morgan  could  not  help  admiring  the  boy's  nerve, 
but  he  was  sure  much  of  it  came  from  the  fact  that  Mer- 
riwell  did  not  understand  the  full  extent  of  his  peril. 
He  fancied  that,  being  a  tenderfoot,  Frank  could  have 


A  Hard  Blow.  247 

no  true  conception  of  the  character  of  the  cowboys, 
many  of  whom  held  a  human  life  as  of  scarcely  more 
value  that  that  of  a  steer. 

The  little  party  returned  around  the  corner  to  the 
veranda,  leaving  the  knocked-out  cowboy  to  the  care 
of  his  comrades. 

Elmer  Morgan  regarded  Frank  with  admiration  that 
was  little  short  of  ludicrous.  He  followed  at  Merri- 
well's  heels  and  secured  a  seat  on  the  veranda  close  be- 
side him. 

Merriwell  treated  the  matter  as  if  it  were  of  little 
consequence,  assuring  Mr.  Morgan  that  he  did  not 
mind  such  things,  as  they  were  to  be  expected  in  the 
West. 

"Land  of  watermillions !"  murmured  Toots.  "I 
dunno  why  dis  nigger  ebber  come  out  yere,  if  dat  am  a 
facV 

In  order  to  impress  the  boys,  Mr.  Morgan  told  them 
stories  of  the  reckless  character  of  the  cowboys,  ending 
with  a  description  of  an  encounter  with  "rustlers,"  or 
cattle  thieves. 

"I  did  not  suppose  there  were  any  rustlers  left  in  the 


248  A  Hard  Blow. 

West,  sir,"  said  Frank.  "I  fancied  they  had  been 
wiped  out  long  ago." 

"They  are  not  as  thick  as  they  used  to  be,"  confessed 
the  rancher.  "Thar  was  a  time  when  they  cut  inter 
ther  cattlemen  pretty  heavy,  but  Judge  Lynch  has  made 
that  sort  of  business  'tarnal  resky.  All  the  same,  just 
now  Kansas  is  bothered  with  a  new  gang  that  is  stealin' 
critters  with  a  high  hand.  They're  led  by  a  galoot  as 
calls  himself  Black  Jack,  and  he  is  right  bad  man,  you 
bet!  They  don't  seem  able  ter  rope  the  varmint  no- 
how." 

"Slippery,  is  he?" 

"That's  whatever.  Never  can  put  your  hand  on 
him,  and  nobody  seems  to  know  just  what  he  looks 
like" 

"Where  is  he  carrying  on  his  operations  ?" 

"All  along  the  Arkansas  River  bottoms." 

"Has  he  hit  you  very  hard  ?" 

"That's  uncertain,  but  it  begins  to  seem  that  he  ain't 
bothered  me  much  of  any,  which  is  queer,  I  will  allow." 

"You  are  one  of  the  most  extensive  cattle  raisers  of 
this  region,  I  believe?" 

"I  ruther  think  I  air  " 


A  Hard  Blow.  249 

"And  it  looks  as  if  you  would  be  the  first  one  Black 
Jack  would  strike  ?  Is  that  the  way  of  it  ?" 

"Yep." 

"How  do  you  account  for  the  fact  that  you  have  re- 
mained unmolested?" 

"I  don't  'count  for  it.  I  couldn't  believe  I  had  es- 
caped, and  I've  had  the  boys  lookin'  over  my  cattle. 
So  far  they  report  everything  pretty  near  all  right.'* 

"Perhaps  Black  Jack  is  afraid  to  molest  you." 

Morgan  shook  his  head. 

"Not  likely.  He  don't  seem  afraid  of  anything  on 
top  of  the  earth,  any  more  than  is  Grogan,  the  man  you 
had  the  nerve  to  knock  down  a  short  time  ago." 

"Black  Jack  may  be  knocked  out  as  easy  as  was  Gro- 
gan," said  Diamond. 

"Grogan'd  never  been  knocked  out  if  Mr.  Merriwell 
hadn't  took  him  by  surprise,"  declared  the  rancher. 

'That's  where  you  fool  yourself,"  hastily  put  in 
Rattleton.  "I  say,  Frank,  just  muss  up  and  show  your 
stripple — I  mean  strip  up  and  show  your  muscle." 

"It  is  not  at  all  necessary,"  said  Mr.  Morgan,  quietly. 
"I  fully  understand  that  Mr.  Merriwell  has  plenty  o£ 
muscle,  else  he'd  never  been  able  to  strike  a  blow  that 


250  A  Hard  Blow. 

would  have  settled  Grogan  in  a  moment;  but  what  I  do 
claim  is  that  it  was  most  fortunate  for  him  that  he 
could  strike  such  a  blow,  and  that  he  used  it  quick 
enough  to  take  Grogan  off  his  guard.  Otherwise,  I  am 
inclined  to  think  he  would  not  have  been  given  a 
chance  to  use  it  at  all." 

"Then  is  Grogan  such  a  terrible  fighter?"  asked 
Frank. 

"He  is  a  devil!  You  would  have  been  torm  limb 
from  limb,  if  you  had  not  settled  his  case  with  one 
blow." 

"Perhaps  you  are  right." 

"Perhaps  so.     Why,  I  know  it !" 

"All  right,"  smiled  Merriwell.  "We  will  let  it  go  at 
that." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 
GROGAN'S   REVENGE. 

Supper  on  the  ranch  took  place  at  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon.  It  was  a  very  plain  meal,  but  there  was 
plenty  of  good  hearty  food,  which  satisfied  the  hungry 
young  bicyclists. 

Tess  was  at  the  table.  She  had  changed  her  dress, 
and  appeared  in  a  garment  that  astonished  the  boys  not 
a  little,  for  it  was  tasty  and  well  made,  as  if  it  had  been 
created  for  her  by  an  accomplished  dressmaker. 

But  the  girl  had  not  changed  her  manners  with  her 
dress.  She  clung  to  the  vernacular  of  the  cattle  range, 
and,  although  it  was  rather  rough,  somehow  her  words 
and  manner  contrasted  favorably  with  the  drawl  and 
effeminate  affectations  of  her  college-bred  brother. 

"Wa-al,  Mr.  Merriwell,"  said  Tess,  "I  ruther  reckon 
ye've  looked  round  ther  ranch  enough  to  find  out  how 
yer  like  it  ?  What  have  yer  got  ter  say,  anyway  ?" 

This  manner  of  putting  the  question  took  Merriwell 


252  Grogan's  Revenge. 

aback  for  a  moment,  but  he  quickly  recovered,  and  an- 
swered : 

"Surely,  Miss  Morgan,  you  can't  think  I  have  had 
time  enough  to  form  an  opinion  that  would  be  of  any 
value." 

"I  don't  expect  that  yer'll  do  that  nohow,"  she 
frankly  said.  "Ther  opinion  o'  a  tenderfoot  ain't  no 
good,  but  I  thought  I'd  ask  yer.  Ef  yer  travels  round 
ther  place  much,  ye'd  better  have  paw  with  yer,  fer 
some  o'  ther  punchers  might  take  a  notion  ter  step  on 
yer.  They  don't  cotton  ter  tenderfeet  none  whatever." 

"A-a-a-aw !"  put  in  Elmer.     "I  say,  sistaw." 

"A-a-a-aw!"  mimicked  Tess.  "What  do  yer  say, 
brothaw  ?" 

"Now,  don't  be  wude!"  implored  the  Harvard 
"man."  "I  wuther  think  you  don't  know  what  Mr. 
Merriwell  has  done  at  college." 

"Naw,"  with  great  disdain.  "What  haws  Mr.  Mer- 
riwell done  at  college?" 

"Why,  he  is  the  gweatest  pitchaw  Yale  evah  had  on 
her  bawl  team." 

"Wa-al,  ball  pitchers  don't  cut  ice  out  this  way." 

"And  he  belongs  to  the  Yale  crew,  don't  yer  'now." 


Grogan's  Revenge.  253 

"Wonderful !  He  should  be  decorated  with  a  leather 
medal!" 

"An-an-and  he  plays  footbawl,  sistaw." 

"Ye  don't  say !     Still  more  wonderful!     Goon!" 

"He  is  the  man  that  made  the  famous  wun  in  the 
Yale  and  Princeton  football  game  in  New  York  last 
fawl.  He  won  the  game  faw  Yale  by  that  wun." 

"Wa-al,  I'd  like  ter  know  what  all  that  amounts  ter ! 
Ef  he  should  hump  up  agin'  one  of  the  cowboys  on  this 
yar  ranch,  he'd  git  hisself  broke  in  two  in  less  than  two 
shakes.  That's  whatever." 

"But  he  haws,  don't  yer  'now." 

"Has  what?" 

"Had  a  wow  with  a  cowboy." 

"Had  a  row  with  a  cowboy?  Where?  Here  on 
the  ranch  ?  And  he  is  still  alive  to  tell  of  it  ?  Where's 
the  cowboy?" 

"Weally  I  don't  know,  sistah ;  he  may  be  dead  by  this 
time." 

"Then  I  presume  somebody  had  to  shoot  him  to  keep 
him  from  killing  one  of  our  tenderfoot  visitors  ?  That 
was  too  bad,  blamed  ef  it  wuzn't !" 


254  Grogan's  Revenge. 

"You  awe  mistaken,  don't  yer  'now.  Mr.  Merri- 
•well  stwuck  him." 

"Struck  him?  And  is  living  yet?  Wa-al,  what  did 
Mr.  Merriwell  hit  him  with?"  , 

"Nawthing  but  his  fist." 

"Eh?" 

"Thawt  was  quite  sufficient,  don't  yer  'now.  It 
knocked  the  fellow  down,  and  he  lay  there." 

Tess  put  her  hands  on  her  hips  and  stared  hard  at 
Frank. 

"Wa-al,"  she  finally  said.  "I  reckon  you  must  be  a 
fool  fer  luck !  Who  was  it  ye  hit  ?" 

"I  believe  his  name  is  Grogan,"  answered  the  lad, 
with  a  smile. 

The  girl  came  near  fainting  on  her  chair. 

"Grogan?  Why,  he's  a  wuss  man  that  Hannah! 
An*  yer  knocked  him  down?  Say,  Grogan  must  be 
roped  and  corraled  while  yer  git  out  of  Kansas !  Ef  he 
ain't,  why,  ye'll  never  git  out  with  a  whole  skin !" 

"I'll  take  my  chances  on  that,"  laughed  Frank.  **I 
have  seen  bad  men  before.  This  is  not  my  first  visit 
West." 


Grogan's  Revenge.  255 

"And  yer  don't  carry  a  gun  ?" 

"No." 

" Wa-al,  derned  ef  that  don't  beat  me !" 

"Tess !"  said  the  cattle  king,  reprovingly,  as  yet  witS 
a  smile  hovering  about  his  lips,  "I  wish  you  would  be 
a  little  more  careful  about  your  language." 

"Careful !"  cried  the  queer  girl.  "An'  with  this  sort 
o'  provocation!  Ask  me  somethin'  easy,  paw.  Thar 
ain't  words  enough  in  ther  English  language  ter  ex- 
press my  feelin's." 

"We'll  have  to  invent  a  few  for  your  use,"  said 
Frank,  pleasantly. 

The  meal  passed  off  cheerfully,  but  Tess  did  not  re- 
cover from  her  astonishment.  It  seemed  difficult  for 
her  to  realize  that  a  fellow  like  Frank  could  strike  Gro- 
gan  and  escape  with  his  life. 

After  supper  the  girl  disappeared  once  more,  and  the 
boys  were  again  invited  to  the  coolness  of  the  veranda. 
Mr.  Morgan  offered  them  cigars,  but  Browning  was 
the  only  one  to  accept.  Merriwell  had  impressed  upon 
them  all  the  fact  that  coffee  and  cigars  are  wind-break- 
ers for  any  long-distance  bicycle  rider.  Bruce,  how- 
ever, persisted  in  smoking,  saying  it  kept  his  flesK 


256  Grogan's  Revenge. 

clown,  although  no  one  but  himself  could  see  that  it 
had  any  effect  in  that  direction. 

Elmer  continued  to  linger  close  to  Frank,  to  whose 
every  word  he  listened  with  attentiveness  that  was 
flattering,  although  somewhat  annoying.  He  con- 
sumed cigarettes  in  a  most  appalling  manner. 

Mr.  Morgan  again  fell  to  speaking  of  the  rustlers, 
and  said  that  he  feared  they  might  make  an  attempt 
to  run  off  some  of  his  fine  horses. 

"Then  you  raise  horses,  as  well  as  cattle?"  ques- 
tioned Frank. 

"Yes,  I  have  taken  up  horse-raising  of  late." 

"And  you  are  making  a  success  of  it?" 

"I  seldom  make  a  failure  of  anything,  young  man. 
If  you  wish  to  see  some  fine-blooded  animals,  come 
out  to  the  horse-barn  with  me." 

Frank  readily  accepted  the  invitation,  and  the  oth- 
ers were  asked  to  come  along.  They  followed  the  cat- 
tle king  toward  the  barn. 

On  the  way,  several  cowboys  appeared,  and  all  of 
them  stared  at  Frank,  as  if  they  saw  a  most  extraor- 
dinary creature. 

The  horse-barn  was  a  large  building,  with  a  feed- 


Grogan's  Revenge.  257 

xoft.  Within  the  barn  were  kept  the  very  finest  of  Mr. 
Morgan's  blooded  horses,  and  the  boys  enjoyed  half 
an  hour  looking  the  handsome  creatures  over  and  hear- 
ing the  man  talk  about  them. 

At  last,  the  rancher  said :  ' 

"If  you  care  to  climb  the  feed-loft,  I  will  show  you 
the  handsomest  horse  I  own,  young  gentlemen." 

"We  are  willing  enough  to  climb,"  assured  Frank; 
"but  you  can't  mean  that  you  keep  a  horse  in  the  loft." 

"Not  quite  that,  but  the  loft  is  the  only  real  safe 
position  from  which  to  take  a  look  at  the  creature." 

Bruce  groaned,  but  finally  decided  to  make  the  climb. 

When  the  loft  was  reached,  the  cattleman  led  the 
way  to  a  door  in  the  side  of  the  barn,  which  he  opened, 
crying: 

"There,  young  gentlemen,  take  a  look  at  him !  There 
is  Demon,  the  handsomest  and  ugliest  horse  I  own! 
He  has  killed  one  man  who  was  trying  to  break  him, 
and  he  will  do  his  best  to  repeat  the  job  with  the  next 
chap  who  enters  the  corral." 

They  could  look  down  from  their  elevated  position 
into  the  small  breaking-corral,  with  a  snubbing-post 
in  the  centre.  The  fence  of  the  corral  was  made  of 


258  Grogan's  Revenge. 

heavy  timbers,  and  was  constructed  in  a  manner  in- 
tended to  withstand  the  assaults  of  any  number  of  con- 
fined horses  that  might  attempt  to  break  out.  The 
ground  was  worn  smooth  and  denuded  of  grass  by  the 
unshod  feet  of  the  many  untamed  horses  the  place  had 
held. 

But  now  the  breaking-corral  held  but  one  horse,  a 
young  coal-black  stallion,  with  glossy  coat,  proudly 
arching  neck,  and  a  heavy  tail  that  swept  rearward  like 
a  rainbow. 

This  creature  was  moving  restlessly  about  the  corral, 
tossing  its  head  and  pawing  the  ground  at  intervals. 
There  was  a  deadly  look  in  its  wicked  eyes,  and  it 
gave  a  snort  of  anger  and  defiance  when  the  door  of  the 
loft  was  flung  open  and  the  human  beings  gathered 
above  were  revealed  to  its  eyes. 

Exclamations  of  delight  and  admiration  escaped  the 
boys. 

"Surely  he  is  a  beauty !"  cried  Frank  Merriwell. 

"You  let  your  bife — I  mean  you  bet  your  life!"  burst 
from  Rattleton.  "He  is  a  pegular  reach — no,  a  regu- 
lar peach!" 


Grogan's  Revenge.  259 

There  was  a  flush  on  Jack  Diamond's  face,  and  he 
slowly  said  : 

"My  father  once  owned  many  handsome  horses,  Mr. 
Morgan,  but  I  do  not  believe  he  ever  had  a  creature 
the  equal  of  that." 

"By  gracious!"  cried  Toots,  rolling  his  eyes.  "I'd 
jes'  lek  teh  hab  dat  hawse,  chilluns — yas,  indeedy !  sho* 
I  would!" 

"I  rather  think  you  would  find  him  an  elephant  on 
your  hands,"  said  the  rancher,  who  had  noted  that  the 
colored  boy  was  treated  with  unusual  respect  by  his 
companions. 

"Why,  dat  ain't  no  elemfunt,  sar.  Dat's  a  pony,  fo* 
suah.  I'd  lek  teh  take  a  ride  on  his  back  dis  minute." 

"No  one  has  yet  been  able  to  get  on  his  back,  and 
the  last  man  to  try  it  was  taken  out  of  the  corral  with 
his  brains  kicked  out." 

"Land  ob  watermillions !" 

"If  the  next  man  does  not  succeed,  I'm  afraid  we'll 
have  to  kill  Demon." 

"That  would  be  a  shame !"  cried  Diamond. 

"I  have  sent  for  a  professional  horse-breaker,  who 
will  be  here  to-morrow,  I  expect,"  Mr.  Morgan  went 


260  Grogan's  Revenge. 

on.  "I  shall  have  to  pay  him  a  fancy  figure,  if  he  suc- 
ceeds in  breaking  Demon,  but  I  rather  think  the  animal 
will  be  worth  it." 

There  was  a  strange  glitter  in  Frank's  eyes.  A* 
last,  he  said : 

"I  don't  know  as  I  care  to  try  it,  but  I  feel  an  intense 
desire  to  go  down  there  and  see  what  I  can  do  with 
that  beauty." 

There  was  a  hoarse  exclamation  behind  the  boy,  and 
a  voice  cried : 

"Then  down  yer  goes,  tenderfoot,  an'  ther  hoss  will 
kill  yer  in  less  than  a  minute !" 

It  was  Grogan's  voice,  and  Grogan's  hands  sent 
Frank  flying  from  the  door  to  fall  into  the  breaking- 
corral 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

FRANK   AND   THE   WILD   HORSE. 

The  black  stallion  started  back,  giving  a  snort,  as  it 
saw  that  human  form  shoot  out  of  the  door  above  and 
come  sailing  down  into  the  corral. 

Not  a  cry  came  from  Frank's  lips,  but  he  caught 
his  breath  as  he  felt  himself  launched  from  the  door 
and  sent  flying  through  space. 

The  other  boys  cried  out,  and  Jack,  quicker  than 
the  rest,  made  an  attempt  to  catch  hold  of  Frank,  but 
missed. 

With  a  hoarse  laugh  of  evir  triumph,  Grogan  turned 
and  fled  from  the  door,  satisfied  that  he  had  completed 
the  destruction  of  the  boy  he  hated. 

Mr.  Morgan  cried  out  with  horror,  and  Elmer  came 
near  fainting. 

"He  will  be  killed!"  shouted  the  cattle  king.  "He 
can't  escape !" 

Frank's  friends  uttered  a  series  of  exclamations,  and 
Jack  Diamond  would  have  leaped  into  the  corral  to 


262          Frank  and  the  Wild  Horse. 

render  such  aid  as  possible  to  the  unfortunate  lad,  but 
he  was  held  back  by  Browning's  strong  hands. 

Frank  struck  on  his  feet,  but  did  not  fall.  In  a 
moment,  recovering  from  his  astonishment,  the  black 
stallion  gave  a  wild  squeal,  and  charged. 

How  the  boy  avoided  that  swift  rush  and  those 
twinkling  heels  he  could  not  have  told,  but,  like  a  leap- 
ing cat,  he  was  away  as  the  horse  whirled  to  kick. 

Then  it  was  that  he  saw  something  bright  come 
whirling  down  through  the  air,  striking  the  ground  at 
his  feet. 

From  above  the  voice  of  Miles  Morgan  cried : 

"It's  my  revolver !  Take  it,  boy — take  it,  and  shoot 
the  infernal  horse !  It  will  kill  yer,  if  you  don't !" 

Frank  caught  up  the  weapon,  leaping  and  dodging 
before  a  second  rush  from  the  stallion. 

Then,  with  that  heavy,  glistening  "gun"  in  his 
grasp,  the  boy  actually  laughed!  It  was  the  old-time 
reckless  laugh  that  his  friends  had  sometimes  heard 
when  he  was  in  great  peril. 

Yet  he  did  not  use  the  revolver,  but  danced  around 
lightly,  every  movement  showing  wonderful  agility 
and  grace. 


Frank  and  the  Wild  Horse.          263 

Already  Harry  Rattleton  had  rushed  from  the  loft, 
leaped  to  the  floor  below,  and  was  rushing  around  to 
fling  open  the  gate  of  the  corral,  panting,  palpitating, 
praying. 

Miles  Morgan  leaned  out  of  the  door,  waving  his 
arm,  and  shouted : 

"Shoot  the  horse — shoot  him,  boy!" 

Frank  did  not  seem  to  hear  the  cry. 

"Shoot  the  horse!"  came  in  a  roar  from  the  man's 
lips.  "He  will  kill  you  if  you  don't!  Shoot  him! 
shoot  him!  shoot  him!" 

Once  more  the  infuriated  stallion  charged  at  Frank, 
and  this  time  it  seemed  that  the  boy  determined  to  fol- 
low Morgan's  directions,  for  he  suddenly  flung  up  the 
hand  that  held  the  revolver. 

Then,  with  the  greatest  rapidity,  he  seemed  to  fire 
six  shots  point-blank  at  the  stallion's  head. 

The  horse  did  not  fall,  but  it  halted,  seeming  bewil- 
dered for  the  moment. 

In  truth,  Frank  had  not  fired  a  single  shot  straight 
at  the  beautiful  black  beast,  but  had  sent  the  bullets 
whistling  past  its  ears. 

Before  the  stallion  could  recover  from  its  momentary 


264          Frank  and  the  Wild  Horse. 

bewilderment,  Frank  flung  aside  the  revolver,  made  a 
run  and  a  flying  leap  that  carried  him  to  the  back  of 
the  astonished  animal. 

"Hoop-la!"  rang  out  his  clear  shout.  "Open  the 
gate!  open  the  gate!  Give  us  room  to  circulate!" 

Harry  Rattleton  had  reached  the  gate,  and  his  shak- 
ing fingers  were  tugging  at  the  iron  pin  that  held  it 
fast.  He  heard  Frank's  shout,  and,  thinking  his 
friend  must  be  in  the  most  deadly  peril,  did  his  utmost 
to  get  the  gate  open  immediately. 

Fortunately,  Rattleton  succeeded  without  delay. 

Then,  clinging  like  a  leech  to  the  back  of  the  black 
stallion,  and  yelling  like  a  wild  Indian  in  the  creature's 
ear,  Frank  was  carried  with  a  rush  out  through  the 
gate. 

Frank  had  heard  that  wild  horses  often  attempted 
to  "squeeze"  riders  when  passing  through  the  gate  of 
a  corral,  and  he  was  ready  for  it  should  the  stallion  try 
the  trick. 

But  Demon  seemed  astonished  by  the  sudden  open- 
ing of  the  gate — seemed  to  fear  that  it  would  be  closed 
again  with  equal  suddenness.  He  flung  up  his  head, 


Frank  and  the  Wild  Horse.          265 

with  a  wild  squeal,  and  went  tearing  out  of  the  corral, 
like  a  mad  creature. 

"Hoop-la !    Here  we  go !    Clear  the  road !" 

The  cry  came  from  Merriwell's  lips,  as  the  stallion 
bore  him  away. 

Like  an  arrow  from  the  bow,  Demon  shot  across  the 
prairie,  seeming  to  think  it  possible  to  run  away  from 
the  human  being  that  was  clinging  to  his  back. 

"Well,  earn  my  dyes — I  mean  dern  my  eyes!"  gur- 
gled Harry,  as  he  stared  after  his  friend.  "If  that  isn't 
just  like  Frank  Merriwell!  Any  other  fellow'd  never 
tried  to  mount  the  infernal  horse !" 

The  stallion  did  not  pause  to  try  the  tricks  of  a  buck- 
ing bronco,  and,  very  fortunately,  it  did  not .  seem  to 
think  of  attempting  to  tear  the  clinging  lad  from  its 
back  with  its  teeth.  Its  one  idea  seemed  to  be  to  get 
as  far  from  that  confining  breaking-corral  as  possible 
in  a  short  time. 

Away,  away  sped  the  horse,  with  the  boy  sitting 
astride  its  bare  back,  and  sticking  there  as  if  a  part  of 
the  animal.  It  was  a  splendid  exhibition  of  horseman- 
ship, and  Rattleton  was  overcome  with  admiration. 

''If  he  had  a  halter  on  the  creature,  he'd  bring  it 


266          Frank  and  the  Wild  Horse. 

back  as  quiet  as  a  kitten.  That  would  be  just  like  him, 
too.  He  is  a  corker,  that's  what  he  is !" 

Then  he  leaned  back  against  the  corral  gate,  and 
stood  there,  watching  the  receding  boy  and  horse. 

Some  of  the  cowboys  about  the  ranch  had  seen  Rat? 
tleton  rush  to  the  gate  and  fling  it  open,  had  seen  the 
untamed  horse  bear  the  boy  out  of  the  corral,  and  had 
witnessed,  with  the  most  profound  astonishment,  the 
Centaur-like  manner  in  which  the  lad  sat  upon  the  un- 
saddled back  of  the  stallion  as  it  sped  away. 

Grogan  had  reached  the  open  air,  and  he  was  a  wit- 
ness of  all  this.  He  stared,  as  if  unable  to  believe 
what  he  saw.  Then  he  rubbed  his  eyes  and  stared 
again. 

When  he  could  comprehend  what  had  happened,  the 
language  that  flowed  from  his  lips  was  more  violent 
than  polite.  He  finished  by  gasping: 

"A  tenderfoot — a  mere  kid !  an'  he  rides  like  a 
puncher !  Wa'al,  may  I  be  eternally  burned !" 

Then  Miles  Morgan  and  the  boys  came  hurrying 
from  the  stable,  and  stood  watching  Frank  and  the 
black  stallion,  till  both  boy  and  horse  had  vanished  in 


Frank  and  the  Wild  Horse.          267 

the  dusk  of  night,  which  was  swiftly  settling  over  the 
plains. 

"It's  too  bad !"  exclaimed  the  cattle  raiser. 

"What  is  too  bad?"  asked  Diamond. 

"That  the  boy  should  allow  Demon  to  carry  him 
away  like  that.  I  doubt  if  we  ever  see  boy  or  horse 
again." 

"Well,  now,  don't  fool  yourself  like  that,"  returned 
Jack,  with  the  greatest  confidence.  "The  chances  are 
about  ten  to  one  that  you  will  see  them  both,  and  the 
boy  will  bring  back  the  horse  quite  tamed  and  broken." 

"Now  yo's  jes'  shoutin',  Mistah  Di'mon,"  nodded 
Toots.  "Nebber  no  hawse  ebber  fool  dat  chile." 

"But — but  it  is  impossible!"  cried  Mr.  Morgan. 
"Why,  he  has  no  means  of  breaking  the  creature !  Such 
a  thing  could  not  be  done  without  the  aid  of  a  breaking 
bit,  and.  even  then,  that  boy  would  not  know  how  to 
accomplish  it." 

Browning  grunted,  while  the  young  Virginian  rather 
warmly  said: 

"You  would  not  have  thought  it  possible  for  him 
to  ride  the  stallion  in  such  a  manner.  It  may  occur  to 


268          Frank  and  the  Wild  Horse. 

you  that  he  can  do  a  few  things  you  have  fancied  quite 
beyond  being  accomplished  by  a  'tenderfoot/  " 

"Don't  get  touchy,  young  man,"  said  the  rancher, 
kindly.  "It  is  plain  enough  to  me  that  Mr.  MerriweU 
is  quite  remarkable  in  a  number  of  ways;  but  that  is 
no  reason  why  I  should  expect  an  impossibility  of  him. 
Not  even  the  best  of  horse-breakers  could  bring  Demon 
back  without  the  aid  of  appliances  with  which  to  ac- 
complish the  trick." 

"It  is  a  wondah  he  was  nawt  killed,  don't  yer  know," 
put  in  Elmer.  "I  nevah  saw  anything  so  wemarkable 
— weally  I  nevah  did." 

"Oh,  that  wasn't  anything,"  drawled  Browning. 

"It  came  very  near  being  his  death !"  cried  Miles 
Morgan.  "And  Grogan  was  responsible  for  it  all! 
He  shall  be  properly  punished !" 

"That  is  wight,  fawther,"  nodded  Elmer.  "I  hope 
you  will  tweat  the  wude  wuffian  as  he  deserves." 

"I  will,"  promised  the  cattle  king,  "and  I  will  see 
to  that  at  once." 

Then  he  proceeded  to  look  for  Eli  Grogan. 

When  Grogan  was  found,  however,  he  was  mounted 


Frank  and  the  Wild  Horse.          269 

on  his  own  tough  little  bronco,  and  was  riding  away  as 
fast  as  the  beast  could  carry  him. 

"He  knew  better  than  to  remain  here,"  said  Mr. 
Morgan.  "He  knew  what  to  expect  from  me,  and  it 
•will  not  be  a  healthy  thing  for  him  if  he  ever  shows 
his  head  on  this  ranch  again." 

In  the  meantime,  into  the  gathering  darkness  the 
wild  horse  bore  the  young  athlete  from  Yale. 

Fierce  and  furious  was  that  ride  across  the  dusky 
plain.  The  wind  whistled  past  Frank's  ears  and 
brought  the  blood  leaping  in  a  flush  to  his  cheeks.  His 
heart  leaped  with  a  wild,  exultant  energy,  and  all  his 
body  tingled  with  a  feeling  of  boundless  delight. 

"Go  it,  old  boy!"  he  cried,  again  laughing  in  that 
reckless  way.  "I  rather  think  I  can  stand  it  as  long  as 
you  can.  This  is  the  most  sport  I  have  struck  on  the 
trip." 

The  horse  answered  with  another  wild  scream,  and 
seemed  to  dart  forward  with  a  fresh  burst  of  speed  that 
was  little  short  of  marvelous. 

The  short  grass  made  a  carpet  upon  which  the  feet 


270          Frank  and  the  Wild  Horse. 

of  the  horse  thudded  softly.  And  night  came  down 
as  they  raced  away,  away. 

The  undulations  became  more  frequent  and  abrupt, 
till  they  were  something  like  hills,  and  then  Frank 
saw  what,  at  first,  he  took  for  a  herd  of  cattle. 

In  another  moment  there  were  shrill  cries  and  hoarse 
shouts,  and  Frank  found  himself  in  the  midst  of  a  party 
of  horsemen.  With  a  suddenness  that  was  bewilder- 
ing, Demon  was  fighting  with  hoofs  and  feet,  rearing, 
kicking,  biting,  squealing  and  snorting. 

Then  Frank  felt  himself  torn  from  the  back  of  the 
horse  and  hurled  to  the  ground,  where  he  was  in 
danger  of  being  trodden  upon,  of  having  his  brains 
dashed  out  by  those  flying  heels. 

A  very  fiend  seemed  to  possess  the  black  stallion,  for 
it  did  not  try  to  break  away,  but  it  continued  to  assault 
men  and  horses  as  if  it  sought  to  destroy  them  all. 

Frank  found  himself  beneath  a  horse  and  managed 
to  leap  aside  with  such  swiftness  that  no  harm  came 
to  him,  although  something  hard,  like  iron,  brushed 
his  cheek. 

As  he  tried  to  get  upon  his  feet,  he  was  struck  and 


Frank  and  the  Wild  Horse.          271 

hurled  down  once  more,  and  it  again  seemed  that  he 
must  be  fatally  injured  in  that  terrible  tangle. 

Then  it  was  that  something  struck  his  head,  and  he 
dropped  limply,  lying  helpless  and  still  beneath  those 
prancing  hoofs,  quite  unconscious  of  the  mad  struggle 
that  was  going  on  around  and  above  him. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

AT   THE   END   OF   A   ROPE. 

Frank  was  not  stunned  for  long,  but  when  he  recov- 
ered he  found  his  hands  were  securely  bound  and  he 
was  a  captive. 

Near  by  two  men  were  smoking  vile-smelling  pipes, 
while  they  talked  in  guarded  tones. 

Further  away  were  other  men  and  horses,  which 
could  be  seen  dimly  through  the  darkness. 

Even  before  Frank's  senses  fully  returned,  he  heard 
the  hum  of  voices,  and  realized  that  human  beings 
were  near.  There  was  a  mild  roaring  in  his  head, 
which  pained  him  somewhat,  and  he  wondered  if  his 
skull  had  been  cracked  by  the  hoofs  of  one  of  those 
prancing  horses. 

When  he  was  fully  conscious  he  did  not  stir,  but  re- 
mained quiet,  listening  to  the  talk  of  the  men  who  were 
smoking  the  rank-smelling  pipes. 

"It  sure  is  ther  black  hoss  from  Morgan's  ranch," 
said  one  of  them;  "but  how  ther  boy  happened  ter  be 


At  the  End  of  a  Rope.  273 

ridin'  ther  critter  is  what  I  can't  explain  none  what- 
ever." 

"No  more  kin  I,"  admitted  the  other.  "Hannah 
says  as  how  he  knows  ther  tenderfoot,  an'  has  a  grudge 
ag'in  him,  which  he  proposes  ter  settle  w'en  he  comes 
around." 

"Ef  he  does  come  aroun' ;  but  I  reckon  he  got  a  right 
smart  crack  on  the  head,  an'  that  may  be  a  settler." 

"Which  will  be  lucky  for  him,  as  it'll  be  easier  than 
settlin'  with  Hannah." 

"You  bet!  Hannah  is  a  bad  man — 'most  as  bad  as 
ther  cap'n." 

Frank  wondered  who  these  men  could  be.  Were 
they  cowboys?  It  seemed  so,  for  Hannibal  Jones  was 
one  of  Miles  Morgan's  men. 

But  what  were  they  doing  out  here  on  the  plains? 
And  where  were  the  cattle? 

Somehow  it  seemed  to  Frank  that  there  was  some- 
thing wrong  about  these  men,  and  he  continued  to 
listen,  hoping  their  words  would  give  him  a  hint  of 
the  truth. 

"It's  gittin'  nigh  time  fer  ther  cap'n  ter  show  up," 
one  of  them  mumbled.  "He'll  be  here  soon." 


274  At  the  End  of  a  Rope. 

"Yer  can't  count  on  that,"  declared  the  other.  "He'll 
hev  ter  snake  erway  from  ther  ranch,  an'  I  reckon 
they're  keepin'  watch  around  thar  mighty  close." 

"Wa-al,  let  'em  watch.  Old  Morgan  loses  his  best 
hawses  ter-night.  We  need  ther  critters  in  our  busi- 
ness." 

"Ef  we  didn't  ther  cap'n  never'd  tetch  'em,  fer  he's 
steered  clear  o'  botherin'  Morgan,  knowin'  Morgan 
might  make  it  hot  fer  us  ef  he  wuz  ter  git  aroused." 

Frank  caught  his  breath,  overwhelmed  with  a  sud- 
den thought.  He  knew  the  kind  of  men  into  whose 
power  he  had  fallen. 

"Rustlers!" 

The  boy  came  near  uttering  the  word  aloud,  but 
choked  it  back. 

These  men  were  planning  to  run  off  some  of  Miles 
Morgan's  horses,  and  that  made  it  certain  they  were 
rustlers.  Hannah  was  one  of  the  gang,  and  the  cap- 
tain was  at  some  ranch  near  by.  Miles  Morgan  owned 
the  only  ranch  within  fifty  miles,  so  it  must  be  at  Mor- 
gan's ranch  that  the  captain  of  the  ruffians  was  stop- 
ping. 

"Well,  I  have  tumbled  onto  a  rather  astonishing  dis- 


At  the  End  of  a  Rope.  275 

covery,"  thought  the  captive  lad;  "but  it  may  not  do 
me  much  good.  I  am  in  a  tight  box,  and  there  is  very 
little  prospect  that  I  will  escape  in  time  to  warn  Mor- 
gan." 

A  man  approached  through  the  darkness,  and  surlily 
asked: 

"Wa-al,  how  is  ther  tenderfoot  ?" 

"Ain't  stirred  yit,  Hannah,"  answered  one  of  the 
two  guards. 

"Wa-al,  it  takes  ther  critter  a  right  smart  bit  ter 
come  around.  Mebbe  he's  playin'  'possum." 

He  stopped  near  Frank,  struck  a  match,  shielding  it 
from  the  wind  in  the  hollow  of  his  palms,  and  stooped 
so  he  could  throw  the  light  on  the  captive  lad's  face. 

Frank's  eyes  were  closed,  and  he  looked  pale  and 
unconscious. 

Taking  the  boy  by  the  arm,  the  man  gave  him  a 
shake,  roughly  saying: 

"Wake  up,  hyar!  No  funny  business!  I  knows 
ye're  shammin'." 

But  Frank  did  not  stir. 

An  angry  exclamation  broke  from  Hannah's  lips, 
and  he  dropped  the  match,  straightening  up. 


276  At  the  End  of  a  Rope. 

"Denied  ef  I  fool  with  him  longer!"  exclaimed  the 
ruffian*.  "I  did  want  him  ter  come  around,  so  he'd 
know  I  wuz  doin'  ther  job,  but  he  may  not  come  around 
at  all.  More'n  that,  thar's  no  tellin'  what  sort  of  a  row 
ther  cap'n  might  kick  up,  so  I'll  carve  ther  tenderfoot 
now." 

From  his  half-open  eyes  Frank  fancied  he  saw  the 
man  draw  a  knife. 

"Wat  are  yer  going  ter  do,  Hannah?"  quickly  asked 
one  of  the  guards.  "Better  go  slow,  pard." 

"Now,  don't  you  try  ter  mix  in  none  whatever,  Bill," 
hoarsely  advised  the  ruffian,  as  he  knelt  beside  the  boy. 
"It  ain't  none  o'  yer  funeral,  but  it  may  be,  if  you  git 
cantankerous.  Hannibal  Jones  don't  keer  ter  be  med- 
dled with." 

"Hold  on,  Hannah !"  urged  the  other  man.  "Ye're 
takin'  a  heap  o'  responsibility  onter  yer  shoulders  when 
you  knifes  a  critter  'thout  havin'  ther  cap'n's  permis- 
sion." 

"Wa-al,  dern " 

"Keerful !    Yer  don't  want  ter  dern  ther  cap'n." 

"I  wuzn't ;  I  wuz  goin'  ter  dura  you  fer  a  meddler." 

"My  meddlin'   may  save  your  hide.     You  know 


At  the  End  of  a  Rope.  277 

Black  Jack'd  bore  yer  quicker  then  yer  could  spit,  ef 
he  took  ther  notion." 

There  was  no  longer  a  doubt  in  Frank's  mind;  he 
had  fallen  into  the  hands  of  Black  Jack's  band.  He 
scarcely  realized  his  position,  but  he  was  helpless,  which 
forced  him  to  make  the  most  of  it. 

The  words  of  the  man  who  had  been  called  Bill 
seemed  to  have  some  influence  on  Hannah,  for,  after 
a  period  of  hesitation,  he  put  up  his  knife,  muttering: 

"It  ain't  any  use  ter  be  in  a  hurry.  I'll  wait  till  ther 
tenderfoot  kid  comes  around,  so  he'll  know  who  is 
doin'  him  up." 

Frank  breathed  easier.  He  had  been  prepared  to 
roll  over  and  over  to  escape  the  knife  in  the  ruffian's 
hands  in  case  Hannah  tried  to  carry  out  his  murderous 
intention,  but  such  a  move  was  unnecessary,  for  the 
desperado  arose,  gave  the  boy  a  kick,  and  wandered 
away. 

Barely  had  Hannah  departed,  when  one  of  the  two 
guards  detected  a  distant  sound  that  filled  him  with  in- 
terest. He  listened  intently,  and  the  bound  lad  was 
likewise  able  to  hear  it 


278  At  the  End  of  a  Rope. 

"A  horseman,"  thought  Frank.  "He  is  approach- 
ing." 

"It  must  be  ther  cap'n,"  said  Bill,  expressing  the 
conviction  that  had  come  upon  Merriwell. 

Then  far  out  on  the  plain  came  a  shrill,  piercing 
whistle.  Immediately  the  signal  was  answered  by  a 
similar  whistle  from  the  group  of  men  near  Frank,  and 
there  was  a  general  stir. 

"It  is  ther  cap'n !"  said  the  two  guards,  as  they  has- 
tily arose  to  their  feet.  "He's  on  hand  early." 

Unperceived,  Frank  strained  with  all  his  strength  at 
the  cords  which  held  his  hands,  hoping  to  break  them 
and  make  an  effort  to  get  away,  while  the  rustlers  were 
intent  on  the  approach  of  their  leader. 

In  vain! 

Frank's  struggles  simply  served  to  cause  the  cords 
to  cut  into  his  wrists,  but  did  not  loosen  them  in  the 
least. 

"Well,"  he  panted,  "this  looks  as  if  I  am  in  for  it. 
It  is  no  use,  I  can't  get  away  in  this  fashion." 

Having  decided  that  he  could  not  escape,  Frank  gave 
over  his  efforts,  resolving  to  let  matters  take  their 
course. 


At  the  End  of  a  Rope.  279 

In  a  few  moments  the  horseman  was  close  at  hand, 
and  then  he  came  tearing  up  to  the  group  of  men, 
throwing  his  animal  on  its  haunches,  and  dismounting 
at  a  bound. 

Frank  could  hear  the  men  talking,  and  the  voice 
seemed  familiar  to  the  boy.  He  was  sure  he  had 
heard  it  before. 

A  few  minutes  passed,  and  then  the  captain  of  the 
rustlers  approached  the  spot  where  the  bound  boy  lay. 

The  guards  showed  the  leader  the  greatest  respect, 
but  he  gave  them  no  word  or  look. 

"Strike  a  brimstone!"  he  hoarsely  ordered.  "Give 
me  a  look  at  ther  bird  ye've  captured." 

The  men  hastened  to  obey,  and  a  light  soon  revealed 
Merriwell's  face  to  the  searching  eyes  of  the  rustler 
chief. 

A  cry  of  satisfaction  came  from  Black  Jack. 

"I  reckoned  as  much!"  he  said,  exultantly.  "It's 
ther  ornery  galoot  as  got  away  from  me  once !  But  he 
won't  git  erway  ag'in,  you  bet !" 

Frank's  blood  grew  cold  in  his  veins,  for  now  he 
recognized  the  voice,  and  he  knew  the  full  extent  of 
his  peril.  He  could  not  hope  that  the  leader  of  the 


280  At  the  End  of  a  Rope. 

rustlers  would  show  him  a  grain  of  mercy.  Better  a 
quick  death  at  the  hands  of  the  ruffian  Hannah  than 
the  vengeance  the  chief  of  the  cattle  stealers  would 
wreak  upon  him. 

For  in  Black  Jack,  the  rustler,  he  recognized  Eli 
Grogan ! 

Yes,  it  was  the  same  man,  although  his  red  hair  and 
beard  had  disappeared.  His  hair  was  now  clipped 
short  and  was  coal  black. 

As  the  match  flickered  and  went  out,  through  his 
eyelashes  Frank  saw  the  look  of  malignant  hatred  and 
triumph  which  contorted  the  features  of  the  man  who 
stood  over  him. 

Then  came  darkness,  and  Merriwell  felt  his  heart 
give  a  great  shuddering  leap  in  his  bosom. 

Frank  knew  not  how  quickly  Black  Jack  might  seek 
to  wreak  vengeance  on  the  rash  tenderfoot  who  had 
knocked  him  senseless  with  a  single  terrible  blow. 
In  the  darkness  which  followed  the  extinction  of  the 
match  the  wretch  might  be  drawing  "gun"  or  "sticker" 
with  which  to  square  the  debt  he  felt  he  owed  the  boy. 

Merriwell  opened  his  eyes. 

"If  I  must  die,  I  will  look  my  foe  straight  in  the 


At  the  End  of  a  Rope.  281 

face,"  he  thought.  "Steady,  old  man !  Don't  let  him 
have  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  you  quail  or  hearing 
you  squeal!" 

He  brought  all  his  wonderful  will-power  into  serv- 
ice, and  when  another  match  flared  up,  Black  Jack 
was  astonished  to  see  the  boy  calmly  looking  up  into 
his  face. 

"So  ye've  come  around,  have  yer?"  muttered  the 
leader  of  the  rustlers.  "Wa-al,  how  d'yer  like  yer  situ- 
ation?" 

"Well,"  was  the  calm  and  steady  reply,  "I  must  con- 
fess that  I  do  not  like  it  as  well  as  I  might.  I  have 
been  trying  to  get  my  hands  free  so  I  could  give  you 
another  pat  on  the  jaw,  but  the  ropes  are  cutting  into 
my  wrists.  It  is  uncomfortable,  but  I  am  no  kicker, 
so  I  shall  not  make  much  fuss  about  it." 

Black  Jack  gasped  for  breath. 

"Dern  me!"  he  growled.  "Thet's  what  I  call  nerve." 

"Thank  you." 

This  did  not  seem  to  please  the  chief  of  the  cattle 
stealers.  With  a  fierce  exclamation  he  squatted  beside 
the  captive,  while  the  second  match  flickered  and  went 


282  At  the  End  of  a  Rope. 

out.  One  of  the  men  lighted  another  match,  but  the 
chief  told  him  to  throw  it  away. 

"It  ain't  needed  now,"  he  said.  "Just  git  out  an' 
leave  us  alone.  I  wants  ter  talk  with  yar  fly  tender- 
foot." 

The  men  withdrew  a  short  distance,  leaving  their 
leader  alone  with  the  captive,  as  this  seemed  to  be 
Jack's  desire. 

The  man  brought  forth  a  pipe  and  whittled  some 
tobacco  from  a  plug,  seeming  to  peer  like  a  hawk 
through  the  darkness  while  he  was  thus  occupied. 

Frank  could  feel  that  the  man  was  watching  him  as 
closely  as  possible  under  the  circumstances,  but  the  boy 
waited  for  Jack  to  speak. 

After  a  time  the  ruffian  had  filled  his  pipe,  which  he 
proceeded  to  light.  He  was  deliberate  in  his  move- 
ments, and  Frank  wondered  what  was  passing  in  the 
fellow's  mind. 

Having  succeeded  in  causing  the  pipe  to  draw  in  a 
manner  that  was  satisfactory,  Black  Jack  continued  to 
smoke  and  stare  through  the  darkness  at  the  boy.  He 
seemed  to  be  meditating. 

"I'm  kinder  thinkin'  what  would  be  a  right  good  way 


At  the  End  of  a  Rope.  28} 

ter  give  yer  a  send-off,"  the  man  finally  said.  "I  don't 
keer  ter  send  yer  off  ther  hooks  too  quick,  as  thar 
wouldn't  be  no  great  satisfaction  in  that.  To  be 
sure,"  he  added,  "I  might  use  this  yar  sticker  on  yer." 

He  bent  over,  placing  one  hand  on  the  boy's  breast, 
and  Frank  felt  the  keen  point  of  the  knife  pricking  his 
throat. 

"I  should  jedge  yer  joogler  vein  oughter  be  about 
thar,"  observed  the  brute,  grimly.  "This  sticker  is 
keen  as  a  razor,  an'  it  wouldn't  take  no  more'n  a  gentle 
push  ter  tap  yer." 

The  situation  was  enough  to  shake  the  nerve  of  the 
bravest,  and  it  is  not  strange  that  Frank  stiffened  in 
every  limb,  holding  himself  calm  with  a  great  effort. 

"Mebbe  that's  be  ther  best  way,  arter  all,"  said  the 
chief,  as  if  considering  the  advisability  of  such  an  act. 

"It'd  settle  ther  matter  quick  like,  an'  I  w'u'dn't  hev 
ter  bother  with  yer  no  more.  Mebbe  I'd  better  open 
up  yer  wizzend." 

Then  it  was  that  Merriwell  again  brought  all  his  re- 
markable nerve  into  play,  and  the  laugh  that  came  from 
his  lips  seemed  genuine  and  unforced. 

"You  have  got  the  call  in  this  game,"  came  smoothly 


284  At  the  End  of  a  Rope. 

from  the  lad's  lips.  "'It's  not  for  me  to  advise  you 
concerning  the  best  way  of  doing  the  little  trick." 

Frank  felt  the  knife  prick  yet  more  keenly,  and  then 
it  was  removed  suddenly,  and  a  string  of  violent  ex- 
clamations came  from  the  lips  of  the  rustler. 

"Look  hyar,  boy!"  snarled  the  man,  when  he  had 
exhausted  himself  in  this  manner,  "yer  don't  want  ter 
git  ther  notion  that  this  yar  is  foolin'.  Black  Jack 
never  fools." 

"I  trust  not,"  said  Frank,  coolly.  "I  do  not  care 
to  be  fooled  with.  It  will  prolong  the  agony,  that  is 
all." 

"I'm  goin'  ter  wipe  yer  out !" 

"I  presumed  that  was  your  intention." 

"Wa-al,  yer  don't  seem  ter  realize  w'at  it  means." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  do!" 

"Derned  ef  yer  acts  that  way!  Hev  yer  got  any 
grudges  ag'in  yerself  that  makes  ye  tired  o'  livin'  ?" 

"No.  In  fact,  I  enjoy  living  very  well,  and  I  have 
made  the  most  of  life,  although  you  may  consider  me 
rather  young  in  years.  I  have  had  a  jolly  good  time 
while  I  have  lived,  and  I  can't  kick  if  the  game  ends 
now.  I  have  had  more  fun  during  my  life  than  most 


At  the  End  of  a  Rope.  285 

fellows  could  have  if  they  lived  to  be  a  thousand.  I've 
always  managed  to  squeeze  a  large  amount  of  satisfac- 
tion out  of  everything.  Just  think  of  the  fun  I  had 
with  you  at  the  ranch  this  afternoon !  Why,  I  thumped 
you  as  if  you  were  a  punching  bag!" 

There  was  a  hoarse  gurgle  in  the  man's  throat,  and 
he  seemed  unable  to  speak  for  some  moments. 

"I  have  noticed,"  Merriwell  serenely  went  on,  "that 
you  seem  to  articulate  with  some  difficulty.  I  trust  I 
did  not  injure  your  jaw  permanently?" 

Once  more  the  man  resorted  to  violent  language. 
Then  he  suddenly  bent  over  and  struck  Frank  savagely 
in  the  face. 

The  boy  saw  the  blow  coming  and  he  moved  his 
head  so  he  did  not  receive  the  full  shock  of  it,  although 
it  was  sufficient  to  daze  him  for  some  seconds.  Bright 
lights  seemed  to  flash  before  Frank's  eyes,  and  there 
was  a  roaring  and  ringing  sound  in  his  head  for  several 
minutes  after  the  blow. 

But  not  a  sound  came  from  Merriwell's  lips,  his  teeth 
being  firmly  set  in  the  effort  to  hold  back  any  cry  that 
might  seek  utterance. 


286  At  the  End  of  a  Rope. 

"Thar !"  panted  the  rustler.  "That  makes  us  squar* 
in  one  way !" 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"Yes." 

"That  shows  how  much  you  know  .about  such  mat- 
ters," said  the  boy.  "You  may  be  a  first-class  cut- 
throat and  cattle  steal er,  but  you  don't  know  how  to 
strike  a  blow  any  more  than  a  baby." 

For  a  moment  it  appeared  that  the  man  would  fling 
himself  on  the  cool  and  tantalizing  lad  and  rain  blows 
upon  that  taunting  mouth ;  but  he  seemed  to  think  bet- 
ter of  it,  for  he  settled  back,  uttering  a  growl  like  a  dog. 

"Wa-al,  may  I  be  chawed !"  he  muttered.  "I  can't 
understand  yer,  tenderfoot,  none  whatever." 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?  Am  I  not  speaking 
straight  United  States?" 

"Oh,  yes;  that's  all  right.  What  yer  says  is  plain 
enough,  but  what  yer  means  is  ther  sticker." 

"I  mean  what  I  say." 

"Mebbe  yer  do." 

"Certainly  I  do.  To  illustrate,  if  you  will  put  your- 
self in  my  place,  and  let  me  take  your  place,  I'll  agree 
to  show  you  how  to  strike  a  blow  that  amounts  to 


At  the  End  of  a  Rope.  287 

something.  I'll  guarantee  that  you  won't  be  able  to 
lift  any  cattle  for  a  week  after  I  hit  you." 

Black  Jack  remembered  the  blow  he  had  received 
earlier  in  the  day,  and  it  led  him  to  believe  there  was 
something  more  than  idle  boasting  in  the  words  of  the 
boy. 

But  what  sort  of  a  tenderfoot  was  this,  who  could 
talk  in  such  a  nonchalant  manner  under  such  circum- 
stances ?  Surely  he  was  not  an  ordinary  sort  of  boy. 

"Yer  don't  git  no  chance  ter  hit  me  ag'in,"  declared 
the  man. 

"I'm  sorry,"  assured  Frank.  "It  would  give  me 
great  satisfaction  to  nail  you  just  once.  I  believe  I 
could  die  easier  after  that.  In  fact,  I  am  quite  sure 
of  it." 

The  chief  was  silent.  He  seemed  to  be  meditating 
once  more. 

"I  hev  it !"  he  exclaimed,  after  some  moments. 

Then  he  rose  to  his  feet,  and  ordered : 

"Bring  up  ther  black  hoss.  Put  a  cinch  aroun'  ther 
critter." 

"I  wonder  what  game  he  is  up  to  now?"  speculated 
Frank. 


288  At  the  End  of  a  Rope. 

The  chief's  order  was  soon  obeyed  and  the  horse  was 
brought  forward  with  some  difficulty,  being  handled 
by  several  men,  whom  it  resisted  and  struggled  against. 

Black  Jack  dropped  beside  Frank  once  more,  saying, 
swiftly : 

"I  ain't  goin'  ter  cut  yer  throat,  tenderfoot ;  but  I'm 
goin'  ter  give  yer  a  nice  little  ride  at  ther  end  of  a 
rope." 

"You  are  very  kind." 

"Think  so?  Wa-al — ho!  ho! — yer  may  change  yer 
tune.  This  hoss  is  Demon,  ther  critter  w'at  berlongs 
ter  Miles  Morgan." 

"Indeed!  I  did  not  suppose  Demon  could  be  cap- 
tured." 

"Wa-al,  ther  boys  managed  ter  rope  ther  critter  arter 
it  brought  yer  to  'em,  an'  they've  held  it  sence.  Now 
we're  goin'  ter  let  it  go." 

"I  should  not  think  you'd  wish  to  lose  the  horse." 

"Wa-al,  we  can't  waste  time  ter  break  it.  We've  got 
business  on  our  hands  fer  ter-night.  Thet's  why  I'm 
goin'  ter  dispose  o'  you  right  sudden." 

Frank  was  silent. 


At  the  End  of  a  Rope.  289 

"Hitch  a  rope  ter  ther  cinch,"  directed  the  rustler 
chief. 

This  order  was  obeyed  with  some  difficulty,  but  it 
was  accomplished  at  last. 

"Tie  ther  rope  around  ther  tenderfoot's  ankles," 
commanded  Black  Jack,  "an'  make  it  fast." 

The  men  hastened  to  obey. 

Now  Frank  understood  what  the  chief's  game  was 
to  be.  He  would  set  the  horse  free  to  dash  madly  over 
the  night-shrouded  plain,  dragging  the  boy  at  the  end 
of  the  lariat. 

Frank  shuddered  with  horror  as  he  comprehended 
his  doom.  In  fancy  he  felt  himself  yanked  along  at 
the  end  of  the  rope,  bounding,  thumping,  whirling 
across  the  plain,  the  breath  of  life  beaten  from  his  lips. 

And  Frank  was  helpless  to  make  a  struggle.  There 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  submit  to  his  fate. 

Believing  that  death  could  not  be  escaped,  Frank 
prayed.  He  did  not  utter  the  words  aloud,  but  his 
heart  overflowed  with  a  prayer  in  which  he  commended 
his  soul  to  its  Maker. 

He  thought  of  the  friends  he  would  never  again 
see — of  Rattleton,  Diamond,  Browning,  and  of  Toots, 


290  At  the  End  of  a  Rope. 

the  faithful  colored  boy.  Would  they  ever  know  what 
fate  had  befallen  him?  Would  his  battered  body  be 
found  and  buried?  Or  would  his  bones  be  picked  by 
vultures  and  coyotes? 

Other  thoughts  flashed  with  wonderful  swiftness 
through  his  abnormally  active  brain.  Never  again 
would  he  see  dear  old  Yale,  never  stand  under  the  great 
elms  beneath  the  shade  of  which  he  had  laughed  and 
joyed  and  sang  so  many  times. 

He  wondered  if  the  fellows  would  miss  him — if 
many  of  them  would  drop  a  tear  to  his  memory.  Their 
faces  seemed  clustering  around  him — Griswold,  jolly 
and  full  of  life;  Jones,  solemn  and  sad;  Pierson,  tall 
and  handsome;  Halliday,  who  had  ever  been  a  true 
friend. 

There  were  others,  scores  of  them,  his  friends  and 
his  foes. 

His  foes !  He  thought  of  them,  and  in  that  moment 
when  it  seemed  that  his  life  was  soon  to  terminate,  he 
forgave  them  all.  He  even  censured  himself  for  being 
so  harsh  with  some  of  them.  They  were  human,  and 
they  had  the  failings  of  human  beings.  What  if  they 


At  the  End  of  a  Rope.  291 

had  not  liked  him?  What  if  some  of  them  had  tried 
to  injure  him? 

Yes,  he  forgave  Ditson,  Flemming,  Harris,  Harlow 
— all  of  them. 

A  hoarse  whisper  was  hissing  into  his  ear,  arousing 
him  to  a  sense  of  what  was  actually  taking  place.  He 
heard  the  words : 

"Don't  think  yer  kin  escape  me  this  yar  way,  tender- 
foot !  I  hed  ther  fust  rumpus  with  yer,  an'  I'll  be  ther 
last  ter  settle  with  yer !  It  wouldn't  do  ter  step  in  ahead 
o'  ther  chief,  but  I've  fixed  it  so  we'll  meet  ag'in." 

The  speaker  was  Hannah,  the  cowboy  with  whom 
Frank  had  had  the  trouble  before  reaching  Morgan's 
Ranch. 

Frank  heard  the  words,  but  he  did  not  comprehend 
their  meaning.  A  moment  later  Black  Jack  was  at  his 
side. 

"Everything  is  ready,  tenderfoot,"  said  the  chief  of 
the  rustlers.  "In  a  moment  you'll  be  scootin'  over  ther 
grass  at  a  lively  rate.  Is  thar  anything  yer  wants  ter 
say  before  yer  scoots  ?" 


292  At  the  End  of  a  Rope. 

"No." 

"Then  good-by.     Let  'er  go!" 

There  was  a  wild  yell,  and  with  a  snort  the  freed 
horse  shot  away  into  the  darkness,  like  an  arrow  from 
,;he  bow,  dragging  a  human  body  at  his  heels ! 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

FICKLE     FORTUNE. 

Frank  felt  a  jerk  at  his  feet,  felt  himself  snatched 
along,  struck  the  ground  with  a  thump  that  drove  the 
breath  in  a  puff  from  his  lips,  bounded,  fell  again,  and 
then 

It  was  all  over  in  a  moment,  as  it  seemed.  The  boy 
found  himself  lying  gasping  on  the  ground,  feeling  as 
if  his  legs  had  been  torn  from  his  body  at  the  hips  and 
he  had  been  pounded  in  a  score  of  places  with  heavy 
sledge-hammers. 

But  he  was  no  longer  dragged  along,  although  he 
still  remained  bound  and  helpless. 

What  had  happened?  How  was  it  that  he  was  no 
longer  dragged  across  the  plain  at  the  heels  of  a  fiery 
wild  horse  that  was  mad  with  the  exultation  of  new- 
found freedom? 

A  trick — it  must  be  a  trick!  The  rustler  chief  had 
not  intended  that  he  should  be  dragged  to  death  in 
that  manner,  but  had  sought  to  terrify  and  torture  him. 


294  Fickle  Fortune. 

That  was  the  thought  which  rushed  upon  him. 

He  lay  there  waiting  for  the  rustlers  to  gather  around 
him — expecting  to  hear  the  hated  voice  of  Black  Jack 
once  more. 

Then,  far  away,  he  could  hear  the  galloping  horse,  as 
the  creature  was  still  tearing  madly  through  the  dark- 
ness. 

It  was  some  time  before  Frank's  brain  seemed  to 
work  as  it  should. 

Where  were  the  rustlers?  He  listened,  but  could 
hear  nothing  of  them. 

Then  he  tried  to  think  how  it  came  about  that  he 
was  not  still  attached  to  the  flying  horse. 

The  rope  must  have  broken ! 

But  why  the  rope  should  have  broken  was  a  puzzle 
to  him,  for  he  knew  it  was  a  lariat,  such  as  cowboys 
used  to  noose  cattle,  and  such  rope  could  stand  a  won- 
derful strain. 

"It  did  not  break  in  a  natural  manner,"  decided  the 
boy. 

At  first,  his  sensation  was  one  of  unspeakable  relief. 
He  had  been  spared  from  death,  and  he  had  escaped 
from  the  rustlers. 


Fickle  Fortune.  295 

But  another  thought  followed.  He  was  still  bound 
and  helpless,  and  he  was  alone  on  the  plain.  He  could 
not  set  himself  at  liberty,  which  meant  that  he  must  re- 
main there  and  perish,  unless  some  one  appeared  to  re- 
lease him. 

The  thought  of  all  these  horrors  was  enough  to  force 
a  groan  from  Frank's  lips,  despite  his  wonderful  nerve. 

Then  came  an  overpowering  temptation  to  shout-- 
to call  for  help.  It  did  not  seem  that  he  had  been 
dragged  so  far  from  the  rustlers  that  his  voice  would 
not  reach  their  ears. 

Better  death  at  the  hands  of  Black  Jack  than  a  linger- 
ing death  of  thirst  and  starvation  there  on  the  plain. 

His  lips  parted  to  utter  the  cry,  and  then  came  a 
thought  that  kept  him  silent. 

He  had  vowed  that  Black  Jack  should  not  have  the 
satisfaction  of  hearing  him  beg,  or  cry  for  help.  If 
the  cry  should  reach  the  ears  of  the  rustler  chief  it 
would  give  the  brutal  wretch  great  satisfaction. 

Possibly  Black  Jack  was  near  at  hand,  waiting  to 
hear  that  appeal. 

"No,"  he  mused;  "it  will  mean  death'  anyway,  and 


296  Fickle  Fortune. 

I  will  keep  silent.  Perhaps  some  one  may  find  me  here 
and  set  me  free." 

Then,  as  he  lay  there,  thinking  of  all  that  had  hap- 
pened, he  suddenly  remembered  the  words  the  cowboy 
Hannah  had  hissed  into  his  ear  just  before  the  horse 
started  on  its  wild  career  across  the  plain. 

Hannah  had  said  that  he  dared  not  interfere  with 
the  chief's  work,  but  he  had  fixed  it  so  he  would  meet 
Frank  again. 

What  had  the  ruffian  meant  by  those  words? 

"Can  it  be?"  muttered  Frank.  "Did  he  fix  the  rope 
so  it  broke  before  I  was  dragged  to  death  ?" 

After  a  little  the  boy  was  firm  in  the  belief  that  this 
was  how  it  came  about  that  the  rope  attached  to  the 
•horse  had  parted.  It  had  been  cut  by  Hannah. 

"Well,  I  don't  know  that  I  have  much  to  thank  him 
for,"  said  Frank,  huskily.  "I  am  here,  but  that  is 
nothing  to  feel  elated  over.  And  after  a  time  Hannah 
may  come  hunting  for  me  all  by  his  lonesome.  If  he 
finds  me — well,  I'd  be  better  off  still  dragging  at  the 
heels  of  the  horse !" 

During  the  time  that  Frank  had  been  thinking  of 
these  things  his  strength  was  slowly  returning  to  his 


Fickle  Fortune.  297 

limbs  and  body.  Although  he  remembered  his  failure 
to  free  his  hands  when  he  had  made  the  attempt  before, 
he  resolved  to  try  again  and  again  as  long  as  he  was 
able  to  do  so. 

And  then,  to  his  surprise,  he  seemed  to  find  that  the 
rope  about  his  wrists  was  loosened  somewhat.  In  a 
vague  way,  it  seemed  that  he  remembered  having  been 
dragged  through  some  sage  brush,  and  of  feeling  a  tug 
at  his  wrists — a  tug  that  seemed  to  loosen  his  arms  at 
the  shoulders. 

With  wildly  fluttering  heart,  Frank  gradually  set 
about  trying  to  slip  one  of  his  hands  out  of  the  encir- 
cling rope.  He  found  it  slow  and  difficult  work,  but 
he  proceeded  carefully,  fearing  to  tighten  the  rope  and 
frustrate  his  own  design  if  he  gave  a  desperate  pull. 

And  so,  bit  by  bit,  he  worked  his  hand  free,  his  heart 
bounding  higher  and  higher  as  the  prospect  of  success 
became  more  and  more  assured. 

At  last,  with  a  low  cry  of  joy,  he  freed  his  hands 
and  sat  up. 

"Well,  if  this  isn't  a  great  deal  better  than  being 
dead,  I  don't  want  any  sugar  in  mine!"  he  laughed. 


298  Fickle  Fortune. 

"That  was  a  close  call  for  you,  Merriwell,  and  you  are 
not  out  of  the  woods  yet,  but  you  are  getting  along." 

He  immediately  set  about  clearing  his  feet,  to  which 
he  found  a  long  stretch  of  rope  was  still  attached. 

"Free!"  he  cried,  at  last.  "Now,  if  I  could  get  back 
to  Morgan's  ranch  in  time  to  spoil  Black  Jack's  little 
plot  to  run  off  the  horses  to-night — well,  the  laugh 
would  be  on  him." 

But  how  was  he  to  find  his  way  to  the  ranch  ?  And, 
even  if  he  knew  the  proper  direction  to  pursue,  he  was 
miles  from  the  house,  and  he  could  not  walk  the  dis- 
tance in  time  to  be  on  hand  before  the  rustlers  appeared. 

When  he  had  cleared  his  feet  of  the  rope,  he  arose 
with  no  small  difficulty,  being  stiff  and  sore  in  every 
limb.  Once  on  his  feet,  he  found  he  could  scarcely 
stand. 

"It's  no  use!"  he  cried.  "I  could  not  reach  the 
ranch,  even  if  it  were  near  here !" 

Frank  was  in  despair,  and  it  was  some  minutes  be- 
fore he  could  decide  on  anything.  At  last  he  resolved 
to  keep  moving,  if  he  could  do  nothing  more. 

He  reached  down  into  the  grass  and  mechanically 
gathered  up  the  rope,  scarcely  knowing  why  he  did  so. 


Fickle  Fortune.  299 

In  the  same  mechanical  manner  he  coiled  it.  Then, 
slowly  and  painfully,  he  walked  away. 

Frank  had  not  gone  far  before  a  thought  came  to 
him.  He  knew  he  must  still  be  on  Morgan's  ranch, 
and  as  the  cattle  king  raised  horses  as  well  as  cattle,  he 
might  come  upon  a  herd  of  the  animals. 

"If  I  could  capture  one!"  he  exclaimed. 

Then  he  stopped,  and  to  the  best  of  his  ability,  for  all 
of  the  darkness,  hastened  to  make  a  running  noose  in 
the  rope  in  his  hand. 

Frank  was  fairly  expert  with  a  lariat,  and  he  re- 
solved to  be  ready  for  the  emergency  in  case  he  was 
fortunate  enough  to  stumble  upon  a  herd  of  horses. 

When  he  had  prepared  the  noose  he  moved  onward 
again. 

Frank  simply  strayed  in  an  aimless  way  across  the 
plain,  not  having  any  idea  as  to  the  direction  in  which 
the  ranch  lay. 

How  long  he  wandered  on  in  this  manner  he  had  no 
means  of  knowing.  His  strength  had  returned  to  him 
in  a  remarkable  manner,  and  he  felt  that  he  would  be 
in  condition  to  make  a  battle  for  life  if  he  were  to  hap- 
pen upon  the  rustlers. 


3oo  Fickle  Fortune. 

Of  a  sudden,  in  the  darkness  close  at  hand,  some- 
thing black  and  uncanny  tossed  its  head,  and  there 
came  a  snort  of  alarm. 

It  was  a  horse! 

Quick  as  thought,  Frank  swung  the  lariat  about  his 
head  and  made  a  cast,  trusting  to  fortune  more  than  to 
any  skill  he  might  possess,  for  the  darkness  was  dense 
enough  to  baffle  the  most  skillful  "roper." 

The  moment  he  made  the  cast  the  boy  threw  his 
hands,  holding  the  end  of  the  rope  to  his  hip,  in  the 
manner  that  he  had  seen  cowboys  do  when  they  lassoed 
a  horse  or  steer  while  on  foot. 

Barely  was  he  in  time  for  the  shock  that  came.  But 
he  was  braced  and  he  stood  there  like  a  thing  of  iron. 

Had  Frank  held  the  end  of  the  rope  in  any  other 
manner  he  would  have  been  hurled  to  the  ground  in  a 
moment.  As  it  was,  he  withstood  the  shock,  and 
the  horse,  which  by  the  most  wonderful  luck  he  had 
noosed,  was  thrown. 

Uttering  a  cry  of  triumph,  the  boy  darted  forward, 
flinging  himself  upon  the  horse,  as  the  creature  strug- 
gled up. 


Fickle  Fortune.  301 

Frank  was  astride  the  animal's  back  when  it  gained 
its  feet. 

The  horse  was  frightened,  and  away  it  dashed  across 
the  plain,  bearing  the  boy  through  the  dark  night. 

"Hurrah !"  cried  Merriwell,  his  delight  bursting  forth 
in  a  cheer.  "Who  says  this  is  not  luck?  Here  I  am 
free  and  mounted  on  a  swift  horse,  for  the  creature  can 
run  like  the  wind.  Quite  a  change  from  my  condition 
a  short  time  ago!" 

It  was  useless  for  him  to  try  to  guide  or  restrain  the 
horse,  and  so  he  let  the  creature  bear  him  whither  it 
would,  merely  retaining  his  seat  upon  its  back. 

"Black  Jack  could  not  catch  me  now !"  he  laughed. 

But  one  idea  seemed  to  possess  the  frightened  horse, 
and  that  was  to  try  to  run  away  from  the  lad  upon 
its  back. 

It  seemed  that  this  wild  ride  continued  for  two 
hours,  at  least,  and  then  of  a  sudden,  close  at  hand  in 
the  darkness,  loomed  some  buildings. 

"A  ranch !"  thought  Frank,  with  a  throb  of  aston- 
ishment and  joy. 

Already  the  horse  was  well  spent.  It  dashed 
straight  up  to  a  corral  fence,  and  stopped  suddenly. 


302  Fickle  Fortune. 

Frank  was  off  the  horse  in  a  moment.  Before  him 
he  saw  the  gate  of  the  corral  standing  wide  open.  He 
struck  the  horse  a  sharp  blow  with  his  hand,  and  the 
creature  trotted  into  the  corral,  as  if  it  were  quite 
willing  to  do  so. 

"Seems  to  know  the  place,"  muttered  Frank.  "Acts 
as  if  it  were  glad  to  get  back.  It  must  be  the  horse 
has  been  confined  in  this  same  corral,  and  escaped  by 
the  open  gate." 

He  closed  the  gate. 

"Now,"  he  muttered,  "now  to  find  out  where  I  am." 

As  he  turned  about,  dark  forms  appeared  before 
him,  and  he  heard  the  stern  command : 

"Up  with  your  hands,  critter!  Try  ter  slope,  an* 
we'll  pump  yer  full  o'  lead !" 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE   METAMORPHOSIS   OF  TESS. 

"Up  they  go,"  said  Frank,  with  a  laugh,  as  he  ele- 
vated his  hands  above  his  head.  "You  need  not  bother 
about  shooting  holes  in  me.  I  don't  care  for  the  lead 
cure." 

There  was  an  exclamation  of  astonishment,  and  a 
voice  cried : 

"Corn  of  Habriel — I  mean  horn  of  Gabriel !  if  it  isn't 
Frank  Merriwell,  I  hope  I  may  be  butted  to  death  by 
gross-eyed  coats — no,  cross-eyed  goats !" 

"You  are  right,  Harry,"  said  Frank,  with  satisfac- 
tion. 

"I  am  here,  large  as  life,  and  just  as  natural." 

In  another  moment  he  was  clasped  in  Rattleton's 
arms. 

"I  knew  you  would  come  back!"  he  declared,  over 
and  over.  "But  I  was  beginning  to  get  anxious  about 
you,"  he  confessed.  "That's  how  I  happened  to  be  out 


304         The  Metamorphosis  of  Tess. 

here  with  these  men.  Couldn't  sleep.  Got  up  and 
came  out." 

"Where  are  the  other  fellows,  Harry  ?"  Frank  asked. 

"All  asleep.  Diamond  told  them  you  would  come 
back  all  right,  and  was  ready  to  turn  in  at  the  usual 
hour.  Toots  was  tired  out,  and  you  know  nothing 
causes  Browning  to  lose  his  sleep." 

"Well,"  said  Merriwell,  who  found  it  difficult  to 
realize  that  fickle  fortune  had  turned  thus  completely  in 
his  favor,  "I'll  soon  have  them  all  out.  I  want  to  see 
Mr.  Morgan  without  delay." 

A  short  time  later  Frank  was  telling  the  cattle  king 
of  his  remarkable  adventures,  and  how  he  had  learned 
that  there  was  a  plan  to  raid  his  horse-barn  that  very 
night. 

"Well,  we  will  give  ther  whelps  a  hot  reception !"  ex- 
claimed Miles  Morgan,  as  he  hastily  got  into  his 
clothes.  "So  Eli  Grogan  is  Black  Jack?  I'll  allow  I'd 
never  dreamed  such  a  thing." 

"Had  Grogan  a  particular  friend  among  the  cow- 
boys on  the  ranch?" 

"Yes,  two." 

"Who?" 


The  Metamorphosis  of  Tess.          305 

"Hannibal  Jones  was  one." 

"The  other?" 

"A  chap  hyar  at  ther  stable  by  ther  name  of  Blake." 

"Take  my  advice  and  tie  up  this  man  Blake  before 
he  has  time  to  learn  that  Black  Jack's  scheme  is 
known." 

"You  think— just  what?" 

"He  may  be  one  of  the  rustlers.  He  may  be  the 
one  left  here  to  warn  the  gang  in  case  anything  is 
wrong  at  the  ranch." 

"Perhaps  that's  right.     We'll  look  out  for  him,  boy." 

So  it  happened  that  Rod  Blake  suddenly  found  him- 
self seized  and  bound,  much  to  his  astonishment  and 
pretended  indignation.  The  men  who  tied  him  re- 
fused to  answer  questions;  he  was  placed  where  he 
could  not  by  any  possible  effort  signal  to  the  rustlers. 

Then  there  was  haste  in  gathering  the  men  about 
the  ranch  in  the  horse-barn,  where  they  awaited  the 
approach  of  the  rustlers,  all  of  them  fully  armed. 

Barely  were  these  preparations  made  when  a  sound 
from  the  darkness  that  hovered  on  the  plain  told  the 
cattle  lifters  were  approaching.  With  a  rush  and  a 


306         The  Metamorphosis  of  Tess. 

dash  they  swept  up  to  the  ranch,  reached  the  barn,  some 
leaped  from  the  horses,  while  others  held  the  animals. 

Before  they  could  rush  forward  to  break  into  the 
barn,  Morgan's  cowboys  poured  a  volley  of  bullets  into 
the  ranks  of  the  astonished  wretches. 

Many  fell,  and  those  who  could  made  haste  to  mount 
and  ride  madly  away  into  the  darkness,  without  return- 
ing a  single  shot.  With  wild  yells,  the  triumphant 
cowboys  rushed  from  the  barn,  seized  the  dead  and 
wounded  bandits,  and  bore  them  in. 

It  was  found  that  Black  Jack  was  among  the  killed, 
and  Hannibal  Jones  was  mortally  wounded. 

Jones  stared  as  if  he  saw  an  apparition  when  his 
eyes  rested  on  Frank. 

"You?"  he  gasped.  "Hyar?  Wa-al,  this  yar  gits 
me!" 

"Yes,  I  am  here,"  said  Frank.  "Thanks  to  your 
kindness  in  partly  cutting  the  rope  that  attached  me 
to  the  horse,  I  was  able  to  reach  the  ranch  in  time  to 
warn  Mr.  Morgan  of  the  intended  raid." 

Hannah  groaned. 

"Thet  time  I  cooked  my  own  goose !"  he  huskily  said. 
"I  didn't  want  ther  boss  ter  wipe  yer  out,  fer  I  'lowed 


The  Metamorphosis  of  Tess.         307 

I  bed  first  claim  onter  yer.  Ef  I'd  let  him  do  ther  job, 
I  wouldn't  be  hyar  now  with  a  bullet  through  my 
lungs." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Frank.  "It  was  through  no 
feeling  of  pity  for  me  that  you  cut  the  rope.  Instead 
of  that,  it  was  because  you  wanted  the  murderous  sat- 
isfaction of  killing  me  yourself.  And  this  is  your  just 
reward." 

"I  reckon  you're  right,  tenderfoot.  I  wants  ter  say 
before  I  shuffle  off  that  you  takes  ther  bakery  fer  any- 
thing in  ther  tenderfoot  line.  I  never  saw  anything  in 
Kansas  afore  that  could  stack  up  with  you,  kid." 

Frank  bade  the  men  see  that  Hannah  was  made  com- 
fortable while  he  lived — as  comfortable  as  possible. 
Some  of  the  indignant  cowboys  were  inclined  to  hang 
Jones  and  the  other  wounded  ones,  but  Miles  Morgan 
sternly  forbade  anything  of  the  kind. 

When  the  boys  and  the  cattle  king  returned  to  the 
house,  Tess  was  up  and  dressed.  She  regarded  the 
lads  with  some  astonishment,  as  she  asked  what  all  the 
shooting  was  about. 

"Oh,  not  much!"  smiled  Frank.  "We  have  been 
having  a  matinee  with  the  rustlers,  that  is  all." 


3o8         The  Metamorphosis  of  less. 

She  lifted  her  eyebrows. 

"Ef  yer  means  by  that  as  how  ye've  been  fightm'," 
she  said,  "I  reckon  ther  punchers  done  ther  fightin', 
while  you  was  hid  somewhere  out  o'  ther  reach  o'  bul- 
lets." 

This  seemed  to  amuse  Frank,  who  smilingly  said: 
"It  is  plain  that  your  poor  opinion  of  a  tenderfoot  has 
not  changed  in  the  least,  Miss  Morgan.  However,  it 
is  of  no  consequence  to  me." 

This  thrust  went  home,  as  he  plainly  saw,  for,  with 
a  saucy  toss  of  her  head  and  a  pert  retort,  she  hastily 
retired. 

The  following  morning  Tess  came  to  breakfast  in 
a  gown  that  was  a  revelation  to  the  boys,  as  it  was 
quite  as  tasty  and  delicate  as  an  Eastern  girl  of  culture 
could  have  worn. 

But  what  astonished  them  more  than  anything  else 
was  the  fact  that  she  seemed  to  have  changed  her  man- 
ners with  her  gown. 

That  was  not  all.  She  had  abandoned  the  uncoutK 
Western  style  of  speaking,  had  quite  dropped  the  dia- 
lect of  the  ranches  and  the  mountains,  and  spoke  with 


The  Metamorphosis  of  Tess.         309 

as  perfect  pronunciation  as  the  most  blue-blooded  Bos- 
ton maiden. 

It  was  with  no  small  amount  of  difficulty  that  Frank 
Merriwell  could  keep  from  staring  at  her.  The  change 
was  so  great  and  marvelous.  She  greeted  them  all 
with  the  greatest  ease  and  grace. 

Elmer  Morgan  was  on  hand,  and  he  regarded  his 
sister  with  great  satisfaction. 

"There,  my  deah  girl,"  he  drawled,  "I  am  verwy  glad 
you  have  decided  to  dwess  like  a  civilized  cwecher  this 
mawning,  don't  yer  'now." 

Then  he  turned  to  the  boys,  and  added : 

"My — aw — sistaw  is  very  queer  about  some  things, 
don't  yer  see.  Fawther  wesolved  that  we  should  be 
educated  in  the  East.  I  went  to  Hawvard,  and  she 
attended  Vassaw,  but  when  she  is  heah  at  home  she  is 
a  wegular  wanch  girl,  don't  yer  undawstand.  She  will 
— aw — persist  in  dwessing  in  those  wude  clothes,  and 
widing  awound  with  the  horrid  cowboys.  Then  she 
weally  delights  to  tawk  like  the  punchaws,  don't  yer 
'now." 

Educated  at  Vassar !  Why,  Frank  had  thought  the 
day  before  that  Tess  had  not  been  educated  at  all.  She 


3io         The  Metamorphosis  of  Tess. 

had  seemed  wild  and  rough,  although  she  was  strangely 
piquant  and  bewitching  in  her  manner.  Now  she  was 
actually  handsome,  although  something  of  the  old  saucy 
air  hovered  about  her. 

It  seemed  that  the  girl  was  able  to  read  Merriwell's 
thoughts,  for  a  faint  smile  hovered  about  the  corners 
of  her  pretty  lips,  and  she  gently  observed : 

"You  seem  surprised,  Mr.  Merriwell.  I  fancy  you 
thought  you  had  found  a  curiosity  in  me,  and  you  are 
somewhat  disappointed." 

"Not  disappointed,  Miss  Morgan — delighted,  I  as- 
sure you.  You  were  charming  as  a  ranch  girl ;  but  you 
are  bewildering  as  a  Vassar  maiden." 

"Very  pretty,  sir!"  laughed  Tess.  "Surely  you 
know  how  to  make  complimentary  speeches,  if  you  are 
a  tenderfoot.  And  they  say  you  actually  rode  Demon. 
How  far  did  he  carry  you  before  he  threw  you  off  and 
got  away?" 

"He  did  not  throw  me  off  at  all.  And,  as  for  get- 
ting away,  I  think  you  will  find  him  in  the  breaking- 
corral  when  you  look  there  this  morning." 

"Is  it  possible?" 

Jack  Diamond  laughed  in  a  quiet  way. 


The  Metamorphosis  of  Tess.         3 1 1 

"I  told  your  father,  Miss  Morgan,"  he  said,  "that 
Frank  would  bring  the  horse  back,  but  Mr.  Morgan 
seemed  to  think  such  a  thing  beyond  the  range  of  pos- 
sibility." 

"No  wonder.  And  is  the  horse  in  the  corral,  father? 
Did  Mr.  Merriwell  bring  Demon  back?" 

"Well,"  admitted  the  cattle  king,  "whether  Mr.  Mer- 
riwell brought  Demon  back  or  not,  Demon  is  in  the 
breaking-corral." 

Tess  was  silent  a  moment,  and  then  she  suddenly 
said: 

"Mr.  Merriwell,  I  believe  it  is  my  duty  to  offer  you 
an  apology ;  but  I  will  admit  you  are  the  most  remark- 
able tenderfoot  I  ever  saw.  I  have  not  held  a  very  ex- 
alted opinion  of  college  fellows,  but  it  may  be  that  I 
have  deceived  myself." 

The  breakfast  was  a  merry  one,  for  Miles  Morgan 
did  his  best  to  make  it  such,  and  the  lads  were  in  a 
jolly  mood.  Without  at  all  losing  her  air  of  grace 
and  dignity,  Tess  laughed  and  chatted,  betraying  a 
natural  turn  for  bright  repartee  and  witty  sayings. 
Frank  was  charmed  with  her  appearance,  and  his  face, 
his  eyes,  his  voice  betrayed  as  much. 


312         The  Metamorphosis  of  Tess. 

Mr.  Morgan  did  not  see  fit  to  put  a  "damper"  on  the 
pleasant  occasion  by  mentioning  the  fact  that  Hannah, 
the  cowboy-rustler,  had  "cashed  in  his  chips"  during 
the  night,  and  would  be  buried,  along  with  the  other 
rustlers  shot  during  the  brief  engagement,  if  it  could 
be  so  called,  some  time  that  day. 

After  breakfast,  Tess  invited  the  boys  into  the  parlor, 
which,  to  their  fresh  surprise,  they  found  furnished 
and  decorated  in  a  manner  that  would  not  have  been 
unworthy  of  some  Eastern  mansions. 

In  the  parlor  was  a  splendid  upright  rosewood  piano, 
and  in  Tess'  collection  of  music  were  a  number  of  the 
very  latest  popular  songs. 

The  girl  was  induced  to  play  and  sing,  and  it  quickly 
became  evident  that  her  musical  education  had  not 
been  neglected,  while  she  had  a  sweet  and  sympathetic 
voice,  that  was  also  strong  and  clear  as  the  note  of  a 
bell. 

After  singing  a  number  of  popular  songs,  she 
brought  out  a  book  of  college  songs,  and  invited  the 
boys  to  sing  with  her.  This  they  were  pleased  to  do, 


The  Metamorphosis  of  Tess.         313 

and  the  house  echoed  to  the  sound  of  "Upidee," 
"Bingo,"  "Solomon  Levi,"  "Uralio,"  and  "Stars  of  the 
Summer  Night." 

The  following  morning  at  daybreak  the  boys  left 
the  ranch  on  their  way  toward  the  West 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

THE  STRUGGLE   IN   THE   STAGE. 

"There  is  something  wrong  inside  that  stage,  fel- 
lows," cried  Frank. 

"You  are  rust  jite — I  mean  just  right!"  came  from 
Harry. 

"There  is  some  sort  of  struggle  going  on,"  Jack  de- 
clared. "Did  you  hear  that?  I  believe  it  was  a 
woman's  voice!" 

"Land  ob  w<artermillions !"  gurgled  Toots,  the  col- 
ored boy.  "Nebber  see  no  such  country  as  dis  am  fo* 
trouble!  'Fi  ebber  git  back  to  de  East  wif  mah  scalp, 
I's  gwan  teh  be  a  mighty  lucky  coon.  I  is !" 

"Huah !"  grunted  Bruce.  "Don't  worry  about  your 
scalp.  Wool  is  too  cheap  out  here  for  any  one  to  care 
for  that  crop  of  yours/' 

"Mebbe  yo'  think  dat  am  smart,  sar!  G'won,  boy! 
yo's  too  tiard  teh  think  ob  a  smart  thing  teh  say,  sar." 

"Surely  there  is  a  struggle  taking  place  in  the  stage !" 


The  Struggle  in  the  Stage.          315 

exclaimed  Merriwell.  Then  he  lifted  his  voice,  and 
cried : 

"Oh,  driver!  Hello,  there!  Hold  on,  will  youl! 
Stop  a  minute !" 

The  driver  did  not  turn  his  head.  His  whip  swung 
through  the  air,  the  long  lash  writhing  like  a  snake,  to 
then  shoot  forward  and  crack  with  a  pistol-like  report 
near  the  ears  of  the  horses. 

The  animals  were  dashing  forward  at  reckless  speed, 
and  the  coach  was  swaying  and  rocking  and  bounding 
on  its  strap-springs  of  leather. 

Again  Frank  hailed: 

"Hello!  hello!  hello!  Hold  up,  driver!  What's 
the  matter  with  you  ?  Are  your  ears  plugged  up  ?" 

Still  the  driver  faced  straight  ahead,  without  appear- 
ing to  hear  the  cry. 

"That's  queer,"  commented  Diamond. 

"It's  andering  thuggravating — I  mean  thundering 
aggravating!"  burst  from  Rattleton.  "Of  course  he 
heard  you,  Frank." 

"Perhaps  not." 

"Why,  he  must  have  heard!" 

"It  is  possible  he  is  deaf." 


316          The  Struggle  in  the  Stage. 

"It  may  be,  but  I  don't  believe  it." 

The  boys  were  mounted  on  their  bicycles,  which  ena- 
bled them  to  keep  close  behind  the  mountain  stage. 

Already  they  were  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  riding 
along  a  valley  of  the  foothills,  with  the  great  range 
rising  in  all  its  appalling  and  awesome  grandeur  almost 
above  their  very  heads. 

They  had  passed  through  Denver,  where  nq  adven- 
ture worthy  of  note  had  befallen  them ;  and  now  came 
the  most  serious  and  dangerous  part  of  their  trip  across 
the  continent — crossing  the  Great  Divide. 

On  the  great  plains  of  the  West  they  had  found  the 
facilities  for  cycling  surprisingly  good,  and,  although 
but  a  little  more  than  halfway  from  New  York  to  San 
Francisco,  they  were  in  the  best  of  spirits,  feeling  sure 
they  would  accomplish  the  trip,  for  all  of  the  fact  that 
friends  and  acquaintances  had  prophesied  to  the  con- 
trary at  the  outset. 

The  stage  road  to  Buzzardsville,  a  small  place  amid 
the  mountains,  was  rough  and  treacherous,  being  full 
of  loose  stones,  and  yet  they  had  made  very  good  time 
over  it. 

Coming  up  behind  the  stage,  they  had  observed  the 


The  Struggle  in  the  Stage.          317 

evident  commotion  within,  and,  above  the  rumbling 
wheels,  had  heard  the  hoarse  voice  of  a  man,  mingled 
with  what  seemed  to  be  the  frightened  cries  of  a 
woman. 

"I'll  tell  you  how  we  may  be  able  to  attract  the  at- 
tention of  the  driver,"  said  Frank. 

"That's  right,  tell  us!"  exclaimed  the  young  Vir- 
ginian. 

"We  will  shout  at  him  all  together  when  I  give  the 
signal.  How  does  that  go?" 

"We  can  try  it.     Let  'er  go." 

"All  ready.     Now — one,  two,  three!" 

Then  they  sent  up  a  great  shout  that  was  flung  back 
in  a  hundred  echoes  from  all  sides,  but  did  not  seem- 
to  disturb  the  man  on  the  box  of  the  stage  any  more 
than  a  whisper. 

However,  from  within  the  stage,  there  came  a  dis- 
tinct cry. 

"Help!" 

It  was  plain  enough  for  all  the  boys  to  hear,  and  it 
caused  their  blood  to  leap  more  swiftly  in  their  veins. 

"Jack  and  Harry,"  said  Frank,  swiftly,  "at  the  first 
opportunity,  you  are  to  ride  ahead  and  try  to  stop 


318         The  Struggle  in  the  Stage. 

those  horses,  while  Bruce  and  I  will  ride  alongside  the 
stage,  and  see  what  we  can  do.  I  am  satisfied  there  is 
something  wrong  here." 

"Grasush  sakes  teh  goodness!"  gasped  the  colored 
boy.  "Heah  am  anodder  row,  jes'  as  suah  as  I'm  a 
libbin'niggah!" 

"What  if  the  driver  thinks  we  are  trying  to  hold  up 
the  stage?"  asked  Browning. 

"In  that  case,  he  might  take  a  fancy  to  fill  us  with 
bullets,"  Diamond  answered.  "We'll  have  to  chance 
it" 

"Gre't  gov-nah !"  burst  from  Toots.  "Don'  yo'  boys 
go  teh  gittin'  yoahselves  killed  dead.  What  am  I  gwan 
teh  do  if  yo'  all  gits  killed?" 

"If  the  driver  offers  to  shoot  at  us,  it  will  be  your 
duty  to  shoot  him/'  said  Frank. 

"But  I  ain't  got  no  pistol,  Marser  Frank,  an'  I 
nebber'd  dar  shoot  one  off  if  I  did  hab  it." 

At  this  moment  there  came  an  opportunity  for  car- 
rying out  Frank's  plan,  and  he  gave  the  signal.  Imme- 
diately Jack  and  Harry  dashed  ahead,  passing  the 
stage,  one  on  either  side,  and  soon  were  beside  the 
horses. 


fhe  Struggle  in  the  Stage.          319 

With  the  utmost  daring,  for  all  of  a  warning  cry 
from  the  driver,  the  boys  caught  the  horses  by  the  bits^ 
doing  their  best  to  stop  them. 

"Leggo,  thar  1"  roared  the  driver,  rising  to  his  feet. 
"Leggo,  ur  I'll  be  derned  ef  I  don't  bore  yer  both !" 

"If  you  try  it,  there  is  a  man  behind  who  will  drop 
you  in  a  moment,"  declared  Diamond.  "He  has  you 
covered  now." 

In  great  alarm,  the  driver  swiftly  turned,  ready  to 
fling  up  his  hands  if  the  boy's  words  were  true.  In 
fact,  he  turned  so  suddenly  that  he  lost  his  balance, 
reeled,  clutched  at  the  air,  and,  still  clinging  to  the 
reins,  fell  from  the  boot  to  the  ground. 

At  the  same  time,  the  boys  made  an  extra  effort  to 
check  the  horses. 

Frank  and  Bruce  succeeded  in  riding  along  by  the 
side  of  the  stage,  and  Merriwell  looked  in  at  one  of  the 
windows. 

He  was  surprised  to  see  that  one  of  the  passengers 
was  a  girl  of  seventeen  or  eighteen,  and  that  she  was 
engaged  in  a  fierce  struggle  with  a  man  of  twenty-four 
or  twenty-five. 

"Release  her,  you  ruffian !"  shouted  Frank,  trying  to 


320          The  Struggle  in  the  Stage. 

get  hold  of  the  man  by  reaching  through  the  open  win- 
dow, but  failing  in  the  attempt. 

"Help!"  screamed  the  girl,  turning  a  pair  of  wildly 
appealing  eyes  toward  the  young  college  lad.  "Save 
me!" 

"I  will!"  Frank  gallantly  assured. 

Fierce  exclamations  of  anger  broke  from  the  lips  of 
the  man,  but  he  still  clung  to  the  girl. 

"You  villain!"  rang  out  Merriwell's  clear  voice. 
"You  deserve  to  be  whipped  at  the  post !" 

At  this  moment  the  driver  took  his  tumble  from  the 
stage,  and,  as  he  held  the  reins,  it  was  not  long  before 
the  horses  were  brought  to  a  stand,  with  Harry  and 
Jack  clinging  at  their  heads. 

Frank  leaped  down  from  his  wheel,  which  he  dropped 
immediately,  and  flung  open  the  door  of  the  coach. 

He  did  not  find  it  necessary  to  interfere  to  rescue  the 
girl  from  the  clutches  of  the  man,  as  she  had  freed 
herself,  and  came  leaping  to  the  ground,  holding  a 
blood-stained  hatpin  in  her  grasp. 

The  man  followed  her,  clinging  to  his  left  hand, 
from  which  the  blood  was  dropping.  His  face  was 
white  with  rage,  and  his  eyes  glared. 


The  Struggle  in  the  Stage.          321 

The  girl  grasped  Merriwell  by  the  arm,  wildly 
crying: 

"Don't  let  him  touch  me  again!" 

"Never  fear,"  said  the  young  athlete,  reassuringly; 
"he  shall  not  put  his  hands  upon  you,  miss." 

"You  can't  stop  me,  you  meddlesome  nobody," 
snarled  the  man. 

"Try  it,  and  see." 

"Oh,  he  has  deceived  me!  He  insulted  me!  He  has 
lied  to  me !  He  is  a  wretch  and  a  villain !" 

The  girl  was  almost  hysterical. 

"She  is  my  sister,"  declared  the  man.  "She  has  had 
trouble  that  has  turned  her  brain,  .and  she  thinks  I 
mean  her  an  injury.  I  am  here  to  take  care  of  her, 
and  I  shall  do  it." 

Then  he  advanced  and  placed  his  hand  roughly  on 
the  shoulder  of  the  shrinking,  shuddering  girl. 

A  moment  later  something  struck  him.  It  was  a 
blow  from  Frank,  and  was  hard  enough  to  hurl  the 
young  man  back  into  the  open  door  of  the  stage. 

Then  Frank  turned  his  attention  to  the  girl,  who 
was  in  a  half-fainting  condition. 

"I  trust  you  are  not  harmed,  miss?"  he  cried,  as  he 


The  Struggle  in  the  Stage. 

hastened  to  support  her.  "The  scoundrel  shall  not  mo- 
kst  you  again,  you  may  be  sure." 

"Oh,  the  wretch!"  she  panted.  "And  to  think  I 
trusted  him — I  believed  the  villain !" 

"If  he  has  harmed  you,  he  shall  suffer  for  it!" 

"He  insulted  me  by  trying  to  kiss  me.  When  he 
was  determined  that  he  would  kiss  me,  I  struck  him 
in  the  face,  and  it  made  him  furious.  And  the  driver 
— I  know  he  heard  me  call !" 

"The  driver  seems  to  be  deaf." 

"He  is  not.'* 

"Then  he  made  a  pretty  bluff  at  it." 

"I  believe  the  scoundrel  Jutland  paid  him  to  give  no 
attention  to  my  calls !  I  am  sure  of  it !" 

"Oh-ho!  Was  that  the  trick?  Well,  there  may  be 
a  score  to  settle  with  Mr.  Driver !" 

"There  is  a  score  to  settle  with  you,  you  meddling 
fool !"  snarled  a  voice  in  Merriwell's  ear. 

Then  Frank  was  clutched  from  behind  by  a  pair  of 
powerful  hands,  strong  fingers  closed  on  his  throat,  and 
he  was  held  in  a  vise-like  grip. 

Struggle  as  he  might,  Frank  soon  found  he  could 
not  break  that  powerful  grasp.  He  was  held  fast, 


The  Struggle  in  the  Stage.          323 

while  those  fingers  seemed  to  be  crushing  the  bones  of 
his  neck,  which  cracked  beneath  the  pressure. 

The  boy  could  not  even  gasp  for  breath.  A  roaring 
sound  filled  his  head,  and  shadows  danced  before  his 
eyes.  He  realized  that  he  was  growing  weaker  and 
weaker,  and  then 

"Well,  it  seems  to  me  that  I'd  better  take  a  hand 
in  this,"  said  the  slow,  deliberate,  lazy  voice  of  Bruce. 

Bruce  had  come  around  the  stage  in  time  to  discover 
what  was  taking  place,  and  he  proceeded  to  lay  his 
hands  on  Merriwell's  assailant. 

Now  in  the  old  days,  before  he  acquired  a  superfluity 
of  flesh,  Browning  had  been  one  of  the  great  athletes 
and  strong  men  of  Yale.  In  strength  he  was  regarded 
as  something  of  a  wonder,  but  he  had  grown  too  lazy 
to  exert  himself. 

The  bicycle  trip  had  reduced  Bruce's  flesh  to  a  cer- 
tain extent,  and  had  put  him  back  into  condition,  so 
that  really  he  was  stronger  than  ever  before  in  all  his 
life,  although  he  was  not  aware  of  it  himself,  as  he  had 
not  been  given  a  good  opportunity  to  exert  himself. 

Browning  was  a  very  non-excitable  person,  and  ev- 
erything he  did  was  done  with  great  deliberation. 


324          The  Struggle  in  the  Stage. 

Therefore,  with  great  deliberation,  he  took  hold  of 
Frank  Merriwell's  assailant. 

But  when  Bruce  had  taken  hold  of  the  fellow,  that 
person  realized  he  was  not  dealing  with  a  baby. 

"If  I  were  in  your  place,"  murmured  Bruce,  "I  would 
break  away." 

Then,  with  ease  and  moderation,  he  broke  the  fel- 
low's hold  on  Frank.  Having  done  this,  Browning 
slowly  shook  the  man,  and  still,  for  all  of  that  slow- 
ness, he  made  the  scoundrel's  teeth  snap  together  and 
caused  him  to  gasp  for  breath. 

"I  feel  just  like  doing  something  real  rough  to  you, 
sir,"  said  the  big  bicyclist.  "Don't  you  know,  I  think 
you  deserve  a  genuine  thrashing,  and  I'd  give  it  to  you, 
too,  if  it  wasn't  such  a  confounded  bother." 

With  a  howl  of  rage,  the  fellow  drew  back  his  fist 
to  strike  Bruce,  but  Browning  caught  the  blow  midway 
in  delivery,  seizing  the  man's  wrist,  and  stopping  it 
there. 

"You  seem  to  be  very  violent,  sir,"  observed  the  big 
fellow.  "Your  heart  may  be  strong  and  regular,  but 
still  it  is  not  advisable  for  you  to  become  too  exciter3 
There's  no  telling  what  might  result." 


The  Struggle  in  the  Stage.          325 

The  man  gasped  for  breath.  He  was  strong  him- 
self, but  this  young  giant  seemed  to  handle  him  with 
the  greatest  ease,  and  it  took  the  sand  out  of  him  very 
quickly. 

"Let  go  r  he  hissed.     "I  will  kill  you !" 

"If  you  should  do  that  in  a  fit  of  passion,"  said 
Bruce,  "you  would  be  hanged,  and  you  know  hanging 
is  very  unhealthy." 

An  inarticulate  discord  of  words  came  from  the 
throat  of  the  furious  man,  but  he  did  not  seek  to  carry 
on  the  struggle  with  Browning. 

"Excuse  me,"  said  Browning,  with  a  sober  shake 
of  the  head,  "I  do  not  understand  you.  I  know  a  little 
French,  some  Latin  and  Greek,  and  can  say  carrawiba, 
in  Spanish,  but  that  is  pretty  near  my  limit.  After 
thinking  the  matter  over,  I  don't  know  as  I  care  a  rap 
whether  I  understand  you  or  not.  All  I  want  is  that 
you  understand  me,  and  it  will  be  a  mighty  good  thing 
for  you  if  you  do.  I  am  going  to  give  you  some  ad- 
vice. Never  bother  young  ladies  who  do  not  care  to 
have  you  bother  them,  and  don't  try  to  choke  any  of 
my  friends,  because  the  next  time  you  make  such  an  at- 
tempt I'll  take  you  down  so  hard  you'll  know  when 


326          The  Struggle  in  the  Stage. 

you  strike  the  ground.  Now  I  am  going  to  let  you  go, 
and  if  you  have  any  sense  left  in  your  head  you'll  hold 
on  hard  and  try  to  behave.  If  you  have  any  shooting- 
irons  around  your  person  or  any  implements  to  cut 
with,  keep  them  out  of  your  hands,  and  you  won't 
get  hurt.  That's  all." 

With  that,  Bruce  gave  the  fellow  a  toss  and  a  push 
that  sent  him  reeling,  to  fall  sprawling  on  his  hands 
and  knees.  Then  the  big  fellow  turned  and  found 
Frank  again  looking  out  for  the  girl. 

"That's  just  like  him!"  murmured  the  big  college 
lad.  "He  always  freezes  onto  .anything  first  class,  and 
that  girl  is  a  queen!" 

The  light  of  admiration  in  Browning's  eyes  grew 
stronger  and  stronger  as  he  continued  to  regard  the 
girl,  who  was  really  strikingly  handsome. 

"I  don't  know  but  I  should  have  let  the  fellow 
choke  Merriwell  a  little  longer,"  said  Bruce,  sadly. 
"Then  he  might  have  put  Merry  out  of  the  ring  long 
enough  for  me  to  have  a  show." 


CHAPTER  XXVIIL 

A    WAR   OF   WORDS. 

In  the  meantime,  Rattleton  had  taken  charge  of  the 
horses,  while  Diamond  was  looking  after  the  driver, 
who  was  somewhat  injured  by  his  fall. 

Toots  had  kept  in  the  background  till  the  fighting 
seemed  to  be  over,  and  then  he  came  rushing  forward, 
his  fists  clinched,  and  a  look  of  savage  determination 
on  his  black  face. 

"Heah  I  is,  Marser  Frank  I"  he  shouted.  "I's  reddy 
teh  stan'  by  yo'  jes'  as  long  as  dar  am  a  drop  of  bref 
lef  in  mah  boady!  An'  I  want  all  belligerous-minded 
pussons  teh  understan'  I's  a  mighty  bad  niggah  when 
I's  riled.  I — I  carries  concealed  weppuns  all  ovah  mah 
pusson,  an'  I's  mighty  reckless  'bout  der  way  I  uses 
'em.  I's  sight  mo'  danger'us  dan  a  blue-gum  nigger, 
I  is." 

Bruce  stretched  out  his  hand  and  caught  the  "dan- 
gerous" darky  by  the  shoulder. 

"Hold  on,"  he  said.     "Don't  bother  Frank  now. 


328  A  War  of  Words. 

Don't  you  see  you  are  interrupting  the  harmony  of  the 
occasion  ?" 

" Wh-wh-whar ?  Oh,  land  ob  watermillions !  He! 
he!  he!  Dat  am  jes'  lek  Marser  Frank!  All  der  gals 
dead  sho'  teh  git  stuck  on  him.  Don'  none  ob  you 
odder  chaps  stan'  no  show  at  all  w'en  he's  'roun'  ?" 

"That's  right,"  sighed  Bruce.  "The  only  way  for 
us  to  get  a  show  is  to  extinguish  him." 

"Yof  can't  distinguish  dat  boy — no,  sar!  He  allus 
comes  right  out  on  de  top  ob  de  heap." 

The  man  whom  Bruce  had  handled  so  cleverly  and 
easily  had  risen  to  his  feet,  and  he  now  advanced  to- 
ward Merriwell. 

Immediately  Browning  released  Toots,  and  placed 
himself  in  the  way  of  the  young  ruffian,  calmly  saying : 

"I  wouldn't  bother  him  just  now,  if  I  were  you. 
He's  very  busy.  Besides  that,  you'll  not  be  lucky 
enough  to  get  hold  of  him  from  behind  again,  and  he 
is  liable  to  break  your  jaw  if  you  make  it  necessary  for 
him  to  hit  you  a  second  time." 

"I  want  him  to  let  my  sister  alone !" 

"Your  sister?" 

"Yes,  my  sister." 


A  War  of  Words.  329 

"Do  you  claim  that  young  lady  as  your  sister  ?" 

"I  do." 

"Well,  sir,  to  the  best  of  my  judgment,  you  are  a 
confounded  liar.  I  trust  you  will  pardon  me  if  I  am 
mistaken." 

"That  girl  is  my  sister,  who  is  slightly  deranged  at 
times.  I  was  trying  to  calm  her  when  -  " 

Browning  made  a  languid  gesture  of  protest. 

"It  won't  go  down,  sir,"  he  yawned.  "You  do  not 
look  at  all  alike,  and  I  see  no  symptoms  of  insanity 
about  the  young  lady.  You  should  have  invented 
something  better." 

The  fellow  turned  almost  livid. 

"Get  out  of  my  way!"  he  snarled.     "If  you  don't, 


"Well,  what  will  you  do?"  slowly  asked  the  big 
fellow. 

"I'll  make  you  suffer  for  this  unwarranted  and  inso- 
lent interference  !  I'll  have  you  all  arrested  !" 

"Oh,  well,  I  think  we'll  have  to  take  our  chances  of 
arrest.  I  am  willing  to  chance  it.  Simmer  down,  old 
fe)low.  Put  yourself  on  ice.  You  are  overheated." 

The  man  had  been  bewildered  by  the  easy  manner 


}}o  A  War  of  Words. 

in  which  Bruce  had  handled  him,  and  there  was  some- 
thing in  the  big  fellow's  air  of  lazy  confidence  that  con- 
vinced him  it  would  not  be  a  good  thing  to  carry  mat- 
ters too  far. 

"All  right!"  he  grated.     "But  you'll  be  sorry." 

The  girl  had  seen  Browning  coolly  face  the  young 
villain,  and  she  had  heard  all  that  passed  between  the 
two. 

"Do  not  believe  him !"  she  now  cried,  scornfully  re- 
garding the  man  with  whom  she  had  struggled.  "His 
name  is  Joe  Jutland,  and  he  is  in  no  way  related  to  me. 
He  has  deceived  my  brother.  I  believe  he  has  killed 
my  brother!" 

"One  of  her  crazy  notions!"  declared  the  man. 
"Some  way  her  head  has  become  filled  with  the  idea 
that  I  am  dead." 

"You  are  not  dead,  but  I  fear  poor  Paul,  who  trusted 
you  and  believed  in  your  bogus  mining  scheme,  is  dead. 
I  believe  you  killed  him  for  his  money,  Joe  Jutland !" 

The  man  shook  his  head  in  a  sober  manner,  as  if  he 
felt  sorry  for  the  girl. 

"It's  too  bad!"  he  muttered.  "I  am  afraid  she'l1 
never  be  right  in  her  head  again.  Poor  Mabel  1" 


A  War  of  Words.  331 

That  seemed  to  arouse  the  girl  still  more,  and  her 
dark  eyes  expressed  the  intense  scorn  which  her  lips 
could  not  utter. 

"If  I  am  Mabel,  who  are  you?"  she  asked. 

As  if  she  hoped  she  would  recognize  him,  the  man 
held  out  his  hands  appealingly,  saying: 

"I  am  Paul — Paul  Harding,  your  brother,  Mabel. 
Joe  Jutland  has  not  harmed  me.  Be  reasonable,  Ma- 
bel. Jutland  may  be  hundreds  of  miles  from  here 
now,  for  all  that  I  know.  I  do  not  know  what  has  be- 
come of  him." 

The  look  of  scorn  on  her  face  seemed  to  give  way  to 
one  of  astonishment,  and  she  regarded  the  man  in 
doubt,  as  Browning  plainly  saw. 

"I  believe  you  are  the  one  who  is  crazy !"  cried  the 
girl.  "If  not,  you  are  a  born  actor,  and  I  never  fancied 
you  that,  Jutland." 

The  man  made  a  gesture  of  despair. 

"Why  will  you  persist  in  calling  me  that?"  he  ex- 
claimed. "Look  at  me,  Mabel.  Surely  you  must 
recognize  me  now." 

She  turned  away,  saying  to  Frank : 


332  A  War  of  Words. 

"I  am  afarid  of  him.  He  really  seems  to  be  try- 
ing to  make  me  believe  he  is  my  brother." 

"But  he  is  not?" 

"No!  no!  no!  He  lured  my  brother  here  into  the 
mountains,  led  him  to  bring  along  all  the  money  he 
had  in  the  world,  which  was  about  twenty-five  hun- 
dred dollars,  and  now  I  believe  he  has  destroyed  poor 
Paul  for  that  money.  I  wrote  to  Paul,  but  received 
no  answer  from  him.  After  a  time — after  I  had 
written  many  times,  I  received  a  letter  from  that 
wretch,  saying  my  brother  was  very  ill,  likely  to  die, 
and  was  calling  for  me.  If  Paul  did  not  have  a 
-woman  to  care  for  him,  he  might  die,  and  I  was  the 
one  woman  he  needed.  I  wrote  that  I  was  coming, 
and  he  met  me  in  Denver.  Although  I  never  trusted 
Joe  Jutland,  I  did  not  dream  he  was  lying  to  me  till 
less  than  an  hour  ago.  Then,  when  he  was  trying  to 
make  love  to  me,  it  came  over  me  like  a  flash,  and  I 
told  him  he  had  lied.  He  denied  it,  but  I  saw  by  his 
face  that  I  had  hit  the  truth.  My  heart  was  filled  with 
horror  and  loathing  of  him,  but  what  could  I  do.  I 
was-—" 


A  War  of  Words.  333 

"Haven't  you  heard  enough  to  convince  you  that 
she  is  deranged?"  cried  the  man. 

At  this  moment  Jack  Diamond  and  the  stage  driver 
came  around  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  coach,  the 
latter  hobbling  along  with  some  difficulty. 

"I  say,  Harding,"  said  the  veteran  of  the  reins,  ad- 
dressing the  man  who  claimed  to  be  the  girl's  brother, 
"whatever  is  all  this  yar  racket  about,  anyway?" 

Stepping  close  to  the  driver,  the  man  raised  his 
voice,  and  shouted: 

"It  is  all  because  Mabel  does  not  recognize  me.  She 
thinks  I  am  trying  to  injure  her  in  some  way.  She 
grew  frantic  in  the  stage,  and  was  determined  that  she 
would  jump  out.  When  I  tried  to  hold  her,  she 
struck  me  in  the  hand  with  her  hatpin.  Look  here, 
see  where  she  drove  the  pin  into  my  hand." 

He  held  up  the  wounded  member  for  the  driver  to 
see. 

"Wa-al,  may  I  be  derned!"  exclaimed  the  Jehu. 
"An'  I  never  knowed  anything  about  it!  She  wuz 
all  right  w'en  yer  brought  her  onter  ther  stage.  Wat 
made  her  git  off  ag'in  ?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!     It  came  upon  her  suddenly." 


334  A  War  of  Words. 

"Poor  gal !" 

The  boys  exchanged  looks. 

"Do  not  believe  them — do  not  believe  those  men?" 
cried  the  girl,  in  a  sudden  outburst  of  terror.  "It  is 
a  vile  plot !  They  are  carrying  it  out  together !  They 
are  trying  to  deceive  you  into  believing  I  am  really 
crazy!  Please  do  not  believe  them!" 

"Do  not  be  afraid,  Miss  Harding,"  said  Frank, 
quietly.  "You  may  be  sure  they  will  not  succeed  in 
deceiving  us  a  great  deal.  This  man  who  says  he  is 
your  brother  will  have  to  prove  it  before  we  turn  you 
over  to  him." 

"That's  dead  right,"  said  Browning,  with  attempted 
gallantry,  and  then  blushed  crimson  at  his  own  bold- 
ness. 

The  girl  gave  Bruce  a  grateful  look,  which  made 
him  blush  still  more  and  turn  away  with  haste. 

"What  a  noble  fellow  he  is !"  she  murmured. 

"Who?"  exclaimed  Frank,  in  surprise.  "Brown- 
ing?" 

"Your  friend  who  handled  Joe  Jutland  so  easily." 

"That's  Bruce  Browning,  and  you  bet  he  is  all 
right!"  said  Frank,  with  more  heartiness  than  ele- 


A  War  of  Words.  335 

gance.  "He  was  born  tired,  but  a  whiter  fellow  never 
lived." 

The  driver  and  his  male  passenger  were  talking  to- 
gether, the  latter  speaking  his  words  very  loudly,  for 
all  of  which  it  occasionally  happened  that  the  driver 
asked  him  to  repeat  something. 

Truly  it  seemed  that  the  driver  was  deaf,  for  all 
that  the  girl  had  declared  that  he  was  not. 

"She  must  have  been  mistaken  as  to  that,"  decided 
Merriwell,  although  he  did  not  speak  the  words  aloud. 

"Miss  Harding,"  said  Frank,  "if  you  will  step  into 
the  stage,  I  will  see  that  you  are  not  molested  further." 

"Oh,  no!"  she  exclaimed.  "I'll  not  ride  another 
mile  with  that  wretch!  I  would  not  do  it  for  any- 
thing!" 

"You  shall  not." 

"But  how  can  I  avoid  it?" 

"He  shall  not  enter  the  stage  with  you." 

"What  will  you  do  with  him?" 

"I  think  we'll  let  him  walk." 

"All  the  way  to  Buzzardville?" 

"That  can't  be  far  now.  You  are  to  stop  in  Buz- 
zardsville?" 


336  A  War  of  Words. 

"I  suppose  I'll  have  to  stop  there  to-night  He  led 
me  to  think  I'd  find  Paul  there." 

"Well,  we  will  follow  close  behind  the  stage  on  our 
wheels,  and  you  need  not  fear  anything." 

"You  are  very  kind,  and  I  am  fortunate  to  find  such 
friends  at  such  a  time.  I  don't  know  what  I  should 
have  done." 

"We  were  fortunate  to  be  on  hand  to  befriend  you, 
Miss  Harding." 

She  could  not  help  noticing  the  clever  manner  in 
which  he  said  this,  and  then  her  eyes  wandered  to  the 
massive  figure  of  Bruce  Browning,  who  was  leaning 
against  a  wheel  of  the  stage,  coolly  listening  to  the  con- 
versation between  the  driver  and  the  male  passenger. 
Browning  seemed  quite  comfortable  and  unconcerned, 
for  all  of  anything  that  had  happened. 

Even  as  she  looked,  Bruce  produced  a  cigarette  case, 
took  out  a  "stick,"  rolled  it  slowly,  pinched  out  a  little 
tobacco  from  the  end,  moistened  the  paper  with  his 
lips,  and  then  lighted  it. 

This  was  done  with  a  certain  air  of  languid  care- 
lessness that  was  characteristic  of  the  fellow;  but 
ecarcely  had  he  lighted  the  cigarette  when  he  saw  the 


A  War  of  Words.  337 

girl  was  watching  him,  and  he  deliberately  proceeded 
to  remove  it  from  his  lips  and  throw  it  away. 

Frank  persuaded  Miss  Harding  to  enter  the  stage, 
and  Bruce  rather  awkwardly  lifted  his  cap  to  her  as 
she  was  assisted  in  by  Merriwell. 

Immediately  the  man  who  had  claimed  to  be  her 
brother  sought  to  follow  her,  but  Browning's  hand 
fell  on  his  shoulder,  and  the  big  fellow  said: 

"Don't." 

"What's  that?"  cried  the  man.  "Don't  try  to  stop 
me.  I  have  a  right  to  look  after  my  sister!" 

"That's  true,  and  you  may  go  look  after  her,  if  you 
have  one;  but  you'll  have  to  let  this  young  lady  alone." 

"I  have  paid  my  passage  on  this  stage." 

"That's  too  bad,  for  it  doesn't  seem  to  me  that  you 
will  be  able  to  travel  any  farther  by  it  to-night." 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  will  dare  prevent  me  from 
going  to  Buzzardsville  by  this  stage?"  frothed  the 
fellow. 

"That  is  exactly  what  we  mean,"  said  Frank.  "You 
have  forfeited  your  right  to  ride  with  this  young  lady 
by  your  actions,  and  so  you  will  have  to  walk." 

The  man  ground  his  teeth  in  fury. 


338  A  War  of  Words. 

"Oh,  you  shall  suffer  for  this — all  of  you!"  he 
panted.  "You  will  find  I  have  friends  in  Buzzards- 
ville." 

"Let  it  go  at  that.  If  we  get  into  trouble,  we'll  have 
to  take  our  medicine.  Bruce,  look  out  for  this  fine 
gentleman,  while  the  rest  of  us  get  our  wheels  on  the 
top  of  the  coach.  I  have  decided  that  we'll  ride  into 
town  on  the  stage,  as  this  road  is  rather  rough." 

"What's  that?"  shouted  the  driver,  as  if  he  did  not 
fully  understand,  and  still  had  caught  a  portion  of 
Merriwell's  words.  "Whatever  do  you  propose  ter 
do?" 

"We  ,are  going  along  with  you  as  passengers,  my 
dear  sir,"  cried  Frank.  "You  will  find  us  very  pleas- 
ant company." 

"And  they  are  going  to  leave  me  to  walk,  Hunk," 
yelled  the  man  who  had  been  a  passenger. 

"They  can't  do  that.     I  won't  let  'em." 

"We'll  see,"  quietly  smiled  Frank,  as  he  set  Harry 
and  Toots  to  getting  the  wheels  to  the  top  of  the 
stage. 

"Ye'll  hev  ter  pay,"  declared  Budd  Hunk. 

"We  will  pay,  and  one  of  us  will  show  you  how  to 


A  War  of  Words.  339 

drive,  uncle,"  laughed  Merriwell.  "You  were  injured 
by  your  fall,  and  you  are  not  in  the  best  condition  to 
handle  the  reins.  Diamond,  will  you  look  out  for  that 
part  of  the  job?" 

"I  shall  take  great  delight  in  doing  so,"  said  Jack, 
gravely,  a  look  of  satisfaction  on  his  face. 

"Hey?  hey?"  shouted  the  driver,  in  consternation. 
"Wat's  that  ye're  going  ter  try  ter  do?  Derned  ef  I'll 
hev  it!" 

But  Mr.  Hunk  was  not  able  to  prevent  it,  as  the 
boys  proceeded  to  carry  out  Frank's  directions  to  the 
letter. 

Railing  fiercely  at  the  lads,  the  man  who  claimed  to 
be  Mabel  Harding's  brother  was  left  behind  when 
the  stage  rolled  on  toward  Buzzardsville. 

Frank  was  within  the  stage,  chatting  with  the  girl, 
while  the  driver  looked  on  with  astonishment,  as  Jack 
Diamond  drove. 

Rattleton  and  Browning  made  themselves  comfort- 
able on  the  outside.  Harry  enjoyed  it  fully,  but 
Browning  seemed  singularly  restless.  Finally  he 
said: 

"I'll  be  hanged  if  I  think  much  of  it!" 


340  A  War  of  Words. 

"Think  much  of  what?"  asked  Rattleton.  "Why, 
you  lazy  dog,  don't  you  like  this  better  than  pushing  a 
wheel  over  such  a  beastly  road?" 

"I  don't  mean  that." 

"Eh?     No?" 

"No." 

"Then  what  do  you  mean?" 

"The  way  Merry  is  taking  charge  of  all  the  pretty 
girls  we  meet.  He  hasn't  given  anybody  else  a  show 
since  we  left  New  York." 

"Oh!  so  that  is  what  is  troubling  you?  Well,  I 
really  believe  you  are  smitten  with  Miss  Harding! 
You — you?  Is  it  possible?  HaJ  ha!  ha!" 

"I  fail  to  see  what  there  is  so  funny  about  it," 
growled  Bruce. 

"Funny?  Why,  the  very  idea  that  you  should  get 
stuck  on  a  girl  at  all  is  funny!  Oh,  you  big,  fat  ras- 
cal!" 

"Now  stop  that!"  came  in  disgust  from  Browning. 
"I  am  not  fat  any  more,  and  you  know  it.  I  have 
worked  all  the  flesh  off,  and  what  there  is  left  is  pure 
muscle.  And  as  for  getting  stuck  on  A.  girl — w^H,  I 
rather  fancy  I  have  a  right" 


A  War  of  Words.  341 

"Well,  jes'  yo'  git  stuck,  boy,  an'  dat  am  all  de  good 
it'll  do  yeh  w'en  Marser  Frank's  'roun',"  chuckled 
Toots. 

"Some  day  something  will  happen  to  'Marser 
Frank',"  muttered  Bruce. 

"Wh-wh-what's  dat?  What's  gvvine  teh  happen, 
sar?" 

"Well,  there  will  be  a  whole  lot  of  people  marching 
slow  behind  him,  and  he  won't  know  anything  about 
it." 

"G'won  dar,  boy!  Don'  yo'  get  too  free  wid  yo' 
swinuations,  sar.  If  yo'  bodders  wid  dat  boy,  yo'll  be 
de  one,  sar.  Dar'll  be  a  whole  lot  ob  people  singin'  at 
yo'  house,  an'  yo'  won't  heah  'em.  Somebody'll  cay- 
arve  yo'  name  on  a  stone  sho'tly  after  yo'  bodders  wid 
dat  boy,  sar.  Yah!  yah!  yah!" 

Toots'  high-pitched  laugh  awoke  the  echoes. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

IN     B U Z Z ARDS VILLE. 

Buzzardsville  was  a  place  of  not  more  than  a  dozen 
houses  and  one  large  building  that  was  a  general  store, 
saloon,  post  office  and  hotel  combined. 

The  stage  whirled  into  town  and  drew  up  before 
the  hotel,  Jack  Diamond  still  driving,  while  Budd 
Hunk  sat  at  his  side. 

Fifteen  or  twenty  rough-looking  men,  nearly  all  of 
them  smoking  black  pipes  or  chewing  tobacco,  were 
standing  in  front  of  the  hotel,  awaiting  the  arrival  of 
the  stage,  which  was  overdue. 

These  men  stared  in  no  little  wonder  at  the  youth- 
ful driver. 

"Dern  my  boots !"  exclaimed  one.  "Whatever  does 
this.yar  mean?" 

"It's  a  tender foot-lookin'  critter  as  is  handlin'  the 
reins,"  said  another.  "An'  Hunk  is  settin'  beside  him. 
Somethin'  must  be  th'  matter  with  Budd,  else  he'd 
never  let  a  youngster  like  that  drive  inter  town." 


In  Buzzardsville.  343 

"Look  at  t'other  ones  on  top  th'  stage!"  cried  a 
third.  "They're  all  dressed  alike!  An'  w'at's  them 
things  on  ther  stage?" 

"Bisuckles!"  exclaimed  the  man  who  seemed  some- 
what familiar  with  such  things.  "Them  fellers  are 
bisuckle  riders." 

"One  of  em's  a  nigger !" 

"Sure  pop!" 

"What?"  cried  a  big  man,  in  astonishment;  "do  they 
let  niggers  ride  on  bisuckles?  That  yar  proves  they 
ain't  got  no  real  refinement  in  ther  East.  He's  made 
a  mistake  comin'  out  hyar,  fer  somebody '11  shoot  lead 
inter  him  w'en  he's  ridin'  th'  thing." 

The  manner  in  which  Diamond  brought  the  stage 
to  a  stop  in  front  of  the  hotel  brought  a  few  grunts 
of  admiration  from  the  witnesses. 

Budd  Hunk  had  always  claimed  the  honor  of  open- 
ing the  door  of  his  stage,  but  now  one  of  the  boys 
leaped  down  and  did  this  for  him. 

Then  the  spectators  grunted  again,  for  Frank 
stepped  out  and  assisted  a  very  pretty  girl  to  alight. 

Hunk,  who  had  been  hurt  by  his  fall  more  than  he 
supposed,  was  aided  to  the  ground  by  the  boys,  and 


344  In  Buzzardsville. 

then  some  of  the  men  who  knew  him  helped  him  into 
the  hotel,  while  the  others  questioned  him  and  the  bi- 
cycle boys. 

The  bicycles  were  removed  from  the  top  of  the  ceach 
and  taken  into  the  hotel.  The  mail  bag  had  been 
thrown  off  and  turned  over  to  the  postmaster. 

Frank  applied  for  the  best  room  in  the  house,  say- 
ing that  it  was  for  Miss  Harding.  He  was  able  to  ob- 
tain the  front  room  directly  over  the  entrance  to  the 
place. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  the  boys  decided  to 
remain  in  Buzzardsville  overnight,  so  they  sought  ac- 
commodations for  themselves. 

It  was  well  that  they  had  anticipated  roughing  it, 
for  the  accommodations  were  of  the  very  poorest  or- 
der. Toots,  however,  was  the  only  one  who  com- 
plained. 

"Dis  ain't  no  place  fo'  a  gemman,"  he  declared.  "It 
may  do  for  po'  white  trash,  but  what  we  want  is  'com- 
modations  fo'  gemmans." 

"Perhaps  you  had  better  not  say  too  much  about 
that,"  warned  Rattleton.  "It  might  wound  the  feel- 


In  Buzzardsville.  345 

ings  of  some  of  the  citizens,  and  you  are  aware  that 
Western  people  act  very  rudely  when  they  are  angry." 

"Dat  am  right,"  admitted  the  colored  boy.  "I  rud- 
deh  guess  I'll  keep  mah  mouf  shet.  I  don'  car'  fo'  no 
mo'  trouble." 

So  Toots  subsided. 

Frank  registered  for  Miss  Harding.  When  he  had 
written  the  girl's  name,  the  proprietor  of  the  hotel 
looked  at  the  brown-paper  cashbook  that  served  as  a 
register,  and  seemed  somewhat  surprised. 

"Harding?"  he  said.  "Why,  I  don't  allow  she  can 
be  relation  to  the  Harding  who  has  been  'round  yere 
fer  some  time  ?" 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Frank.  "She  has 
a  brother,  whose  name  is  Paul." 

"I  reckon  that's  him,"  said  the  hotel-keeper. 

"Where  is  Mr.  Harding  now?" 

"Wa-al,  he  went  East  on  business  a  few  days  ago. 
Allowed  as  how  he  might  visit  Denver." 

"Did  he  have  a  friend  or  acquaintance  by  the  name 
of  Jutland  while  in  this  town  ?" 

"Jutland?  No,  sir;  never  heard  of  no  Jutland. 
Harding  wuz  on  his  own  hook,  and  he  'lowed  thar  wuz 


346  In  Buzzardsville. 

a  chance  o'  makin'  a  strike  somewhar  'round  yere, 
'though  I  never  knowed  jest  why  he  thought  so.  He's 
ruther  queer,  anyhow." 

"Can  you  describe  him?"  asked  Frank. 

"Wa-all,  I  dunno.  He's  a  tenderfoot,  fer  he  will 
stick  ter  dressin'  'most  o'  ther  time  w'en  'round  town, 
though  he  does  wear  old  clothes  and  boots  sometimes. 
Is  med'um  built,  with  dark  hair  an'  mustache,  an*  has 
a  blue  scar  on  one  of  his  wrists — I've  f ergot  which  one. 
That's  'bout  all  the  describin'  of  him  I  kin  do." 

"Miss  Harding  is  in  search  of  her  brother." 

"Wa'al,  it's  too  bad  she  got  hyar  jest  in  time  ter 
miss  him,  but  he's  comin'  back,  I'm  certun.  Ther  best 
thing  fer  her  ter  do  is  ter  stay  hyar  till  he  shows  up." 

Then  the  man  questioned  Frank  about  himself  and 
the  other  boys,  and  great  was  his  astonishment  when 
he  learned  that  the  boys  had  ridden  from  New  York  on 
their  bicycles,  being  bound  for  San  Francisco. 

Frank  said  nothing  about  the  encounter  with  the 
stranger  whom  the  girl  called  Jutland,  knowing  well 
enough  that  Hunk  would  tell  of  that. 

But  to  the  surprise  of  the  boys,  after  taking  several 
drinks  at  the  bar  and  getting  something  to  eat,  Hunk 


In  Buzzardsville.  347 

came  out,  mounted  to  the  box  and  drove  off,  the  horses 
having  been  exchanged  for  fresh  ones  in  the  mean- 
time. 

Later  on,  however,  it  seemed  evident  that  the  driver 
had  said  something  about  his  unwelcome  passengers, 
for  the  boys  found  they  were  regarded  with  suspicion, 
not  to  say  aversion,  by  the  rough  men,  among  whom 
there  was  considerable  talking  on  the  side. 

Frank's  quick  eyes  were  the  first  to  note  this,  but  he 
said  nothing  till  some  of  the  others  had  mentioned  it, 
then  he  laughed,  observing: 

"They  do  not  seem  to  like  the  looks  of  us  for  some 
reason.  Never  mind ;  I  can't  say  I  am  stuck  on  their 
looks,  myself.  We'll  keep  still  and  mind  our  own 
business,  and  I  don't  think  we'll  get  into  any  great 
trouble." 

The  lads  had  seen  a  few  mining  camps  to  the  north- 
west, and  Buzzardsville  did  not  interest  them  much. 
Besides  that,  they  were  tired,  so  they  did  not  wander 
around,  but  remained  near  the  hotel. 

Among  the  men  who  lingered  about  the  bar  was  a 
fellow  known  as  Handsome  Bob.  It  was  apparent  at 


348  In  Buzzardsville. 

a  glance  that  he  had  been  called  "handsome"  because 
he  was  the  ugliest  and  homeliest  man  in  the  town. 

Handsome  Bob  was  drinking  freely,  and  he  seemed 
to  regard  the  boys  with  a  great  deal  of  dislike.  He 
was  heard  to  speak  in  the  most  disrespectful  terms  of 
all  "tenderfeet,"  but  not  one  of  the  youthful  cyclists 
paid  any  attention  to  him. 

Experience  had  warned  the  boys  to  shun  men  of 
Handsome  Bob's  stamp. 

Through  Frank's  attentiveness,  it  was  arranged  that 
Miss  Harding's  supper  should  be  served  in  her  room, 
although  such  a  thing  had  never  before  been  heard  of 
in  Buzzardsville. 

Supper  time  came  and  the  boys  dined  at  the  regu- 
lar table  with  the  other  "guests,"  who  were  rough  and 
tough  in  every  sense  of  the  expression. 

A  jolly  time  they  had  of  it,  for  they  cracked  jokes 
among  themselves,  paying  no  attention  to  the  persons 
they  did  not  know  at  the  table. 

"I  say,"  cried  Harry,  "Browning's  appetite  doesn't 
seem  to  be  going  back  on  him.  It  is  aJl  right." 

"I  have  heard,"  came  gravely  from  Frank,  "that 
Browning  eats  all  his  meals  before  a  mirror  when  he 


In  Buzzards ville.  349 

can  do  so,  as  it  makes  him  think  he  is  eating  twice  as 
much." 

"Yah!  yah!  yah!"  cackled  Toots,  who  was  deter- 
mined to  show  his  appreciation  of  anything  Frank 
said.  * 

"Oh,  my!"  grunted  Bruce.  "I  wish  you  would 
send  that  laugh  out  to  the  kitchen  and  have  it  boiled." 

"Huah!"  came  from  the  colored  lad.  "Mebbe  yo' 
finks  dat's  funny !  G'way,  boy !  Yo'  ain't  got  no  fine 
sense  ob  humor  nohow.  Yo'  jes'  shows  yeh  ignerence 
when  yo'  opens  dat  motif." 

"That's  right,  Toots,"  nodded  Rattleton.  "He 
wouldn't  know  a  real  joke  if  he  saw  it  in  London 
Punch.  He's  too  slow." 

"Suttainly  he  am,  Mistah  Rattleton — suttainly.  He 
am  so  slow  he  couldn't  ketch  a  cough.  Besides  dat," 
declared  the  darky,  with  a  queer  look  on  his  face,  "he 
don'  hab  no  right  teh  be  so  free  wif  me.  I's  got  some 
relatives  dat  move  in  de  highes'  society,  I  has." 

"Is  that  so?" 

"Yes,  sar;  dey're  pianner  movahs,  sah." 

"Well,  that  is  pretty  good  for  you,  Toots,"  laughed 
Frank. 


350  In  Buzzardsville. 

"Oh,  Fs  a  swift  nigger,  yo'  bet,"  crowed  the  colored 
boy,  and  then  he  laughed  again. 

"What  are  those?"  asked  Frank,  pointing  to  some 
things  served  in  on  a  large  platter. 

"Those!"  cried  Rattleton,  with  a  stage  air — "those, 
me  boy,  are  sausages." 

"You  don't  say!"  murmured  Frank,  as  if  awe- 
stricken.  "I  think  they  should  be  vaccinated.  They 
do  not  look  healthy." 

"The  last  time  I  ate  sausages,"  said  Bruce,  in  his 
deliberate  way,  "was  the  year  before  I  entered  college. 
That  year  I  went  abroad  with  my  indulgent  parents. 
As  you  all  know,  I  am  very  generous  and  something 
of  a  philosopher.  The  Good  Book  says,  'Cast  your 
bread  on  the  waters,'  and  so  forth.  Well,  I  wasn't 
thinking  so  much  about  that  at  the  time,  but  we'd 
eaten  sausages  for  dinner — that  is,  I  had.  After  a 
while,  I  went  on  deck.  It  was  very  dark,  and  the  ship 
seemed  nervous  and  restless.  Then  I — well,  I  fol- 
lowed the  directions  of  the  Good  Book.  As  I  was 
leaning  over  the  rail,  a  young  lady  came  out  of  the 
cabin,  and  said,  'Excuse  me,  is  the  moon  up  yet?  'I 


In  Buzzardsville.  35^ 

don't  know,  miss/  I  replied;  'but  it  is  if  I've  swallowed 
it.'  " 

This  was  told  in  the  big  fellow's  lazy,  inimitable 
way,  and  it  brought  a  laugh  from  some  of  the  regular 
guests. 

In  the  midst  of  the  joking  and  laughing  a  man  came 
bolting  into  the  dining-room,  stopped  suddenly  and 
stared  at  the  boys. 

It  was  the  fellow  who  had  insulted  Miss  Harding. 
He  had  just  reached  Buzzardsville,  and  his  first  work 
was  to  locate  the  young  cyclists. 

"He  looks  as  if  he  is  out  for  gore,  Frank,"  said 
Diamond. 

"Oh,  I  don't  think  he's  very  dangerous,"  came  calmly 
from  Merry. 

Then  the  proprietor  of  the  hotel  entered  by  another 
door,  and  saw  the  man.  Immediately  he  uttered  an 
exclamation  of  satisfaction,  and  hurried  toward  the 
new  arrival,  crying: 

"Hello,  Harding!  So  ye're  back  from  Denver? 
Wa-aJ,  it's  lucky,  fer  yer  sister's  hyar  lookin'  fer  yer." 

Then  he  fell  to  talking  with  the  man,  plainly  telling 
him  of  the  new  arrivals  in  Buzzardsville. 


In  Buzzardsville. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  of  that,  Merry?"  asked 
Jack  Diamond.  "Do  you  tumble?  The  proprietor 
called  him  Harding." 

"I  heard  it,"  said  Frank,  as  he  calmly  continued 
eating. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think?" 

"It's  a  messed  up  mix — I  mean  a  mixed  up  mess!" 
exclaimed  Harry,  a  look  of  perplexity  on  his  face. 

"I  have  not  decided  yet,"  said  Frank. 

"Is  it  possible  we  have  made  a  break  ?"  asked  Jack. 
"Is  it  possible  the  fellow  is  her  brother,  and  told  the 
truth  when  he  said  that  she  is  insane?" 

"She  doesn't  appear  insane." 

"Still  it  may  be  possible." 

"Yes." 

"That  makes  me  tired!"  said  Browning,  with  as- 
tonishing energy.  "It  is  utterly  ridiculous,  and  you 
all  know  it!  The  girl  is  all  right,  and  that  fellow  is 
crooked." 

"But  he  is  known  here  as  Harding,  and  he  claims  to 
be  Paul  Harding,  the  girl's  brother." 

"I  don't  care  if  he  is  known  as  Harding,  and  what  he 


In  Buzzardsville.  35} 

claims  doesn't  cut  any  ice.  The  girl  is  all  right,  and 
he  is  all  wrong." 

"Well,  you  are  smashed  on  her!"  laughed  Harry. 
"And  that's  no  idle  dream.  Oh,  Brucie!  Brucie!" 

Bruce  got  up  and  left  the  table. 

The  landlord  and  the  other  man  had  disappeared 
through  a  door. 

The  other  boys  quickly  finished  eating,  and  followed 
Bruce. 

He  was  not  to  be  found. 

"I  wonder  what  has  become  of  him?"  speculated 
Frank,  as  they  stood  in  front  of  the  hotel. 

At  this  moment  a  shrill  scream  came  from  the  room 
occupied  by  Mabel  Harding,  followed  immediately  by 
the  sounds  of  masculine  voices. 

Crash — jangle — jangle ! 

There  was  a  breaking  of  glass,  and  a  body  came  fly- 
ing out  through  the  window  of  the  room,  shot  over  the 
heads  of  the  boys,  and  struck  the  ground.  And  then, 
with  the  light  in  the  room  revealing  him  distinctly, 
Bruce  Browning  was  seen  near  the  broken  window, 
while  the  boys  heard  him  speak  in  his  lazy,  drawling 
manner : 


354  In  Buzzardsville. 

"Don't  be  at  all  alarmed,  Miss  Harding,  for  that 
individual  will  not  trouble  you  any  more  at  present.  I 
made  a  slight  mistake,  and  put  him  out  of  the  window, 
instead  of  the  door,  but  the  window  happened  to  be 
nearer." 

"Wow!"  gasped  Rattleton.  "I  hope  Bruce  hasn't 
killed  anybody!  If  he  has,  we're  in  a  scrape  sure!" 

Without  a  word,  Frank  dashed  into  the  hotel  and 
ran  up  the  stairs.  The  other  boys  hastened  to  where 
the  man  had  fallen,  and  bent  over  him.  The  man 
groaned  as  they  did  so. 

"Just  as  I  thought!"  came  from  Diamond.  "It  is 
the  chap  who  claims  to  be  her  brother." 

"Land  ob  goodness!"  gurgled  Toots.  "Dis  am 
awful!" 

The  scream  and  the  crash  had  been  heard  all  over 
the  hotel,  and  a  crowd  quickly  gathered.  The  man 
who  had  been  thrown  from  the  window  was  lifted  and 
carried  into  the  hotel. 

At  first  it  was  thought  that  the  fellow  was  badly  in- 
jured, as  there  was  blood  on  his  face  and  hands,  and 
he  was  breathing  faintly;  but  he  came  around  in  a 
measure  while  the  doctor  of  the  camp  was  making  an 


In  Buzzardsville.  355 

examination  of  his  wounds,  and  began  to  express  his 
feelings  in  language  that  was  decidedly  violent 

"A  fellow  who  can  swear  like  that  is  not  in  danger 
of  dying  very  soon/'  said  Jack  Diamond,  with  a  breath 
of  relief. 

"Bress  de  Lawd!"  came  from  Toots.  "If  dat  po* 
white  trash  had  died,  dar's  no  tellin'  what'd  been  de 
quonsequinces,  no,  sar!" 


CHAPTER  XXX. 
BROWNING'S    MOVE. 

Finding  the  man  was  not  likely  to  die  from  the  fall, 
the  boys  started  out  to  look  for  Browning  and  Merri- 
well. 

Upon  rushing  upstairs  to  the  room  of  the  girl, 
Frank  found  Browning  trying  to  calm  the  fears  of 
Miss  Harding,  who  was  in  a  highly  excited  and  almost 
hysterical  condition. 

"It's  all  right,"  the  big  college  lad  was  'saying.  "He 
won't  trouble  you  again,  Miss  Harding.  In  fact,  I  do 
not  think  he  will  bother  you  for  some  time  to  come." 

"Oh,  I  hope  you  haven't  killed  him !"  she  shuddered. 
"That  would  be  awful !" 

"It's  rather  hard  work  to  kill  such  rascals,  I  have 
noticed.  They  do  not  croak  easily." 

"What  have  you  been  up  to,  old  man  ?"  asked  Mer- 
riwell,  entering  the  room.  "What  have  you  done  ?" 

"Oh,  nothing  worth  mentioning,"  was  Browning's 
<;ool  reply.  "I  tossed  a  chap  out  of  the  window,  that's 


Browning's  Move.  357 

all.  As  I  forgot  to  open  the  window,  I  broke  some 
glass." 

"But  it  is  some  distance  from  that  window  to  the 
street,  and  a  fall  like  that  is  liable  to  kill  a  man." 

"If  he  dies,  he'll  escape  the  expense  of  feeding  and 
clothing  himself  a  few  years  longer,  and  so  it'll  be 
mioney  in  his  pocket." 

"But  you'll  be  in  trouble  if  he  dies." 

"Never  mind,  that's  a  small  matter.  He  had  forced 
himself  in  here  on  that  young  lady,  and  was  annoying 
her.  I  was  near  when  she  screamed,  and  came  right 
in  without  knocking.  When  I  saw  it  was  the  same 
chap  who  gave  her  the  trouble  this  afternoon,  I  put 
him  out." 

Frank  could  but  admire  the  big  fellow's  coolness, 
and  he  laughed.  Then  he  hastened  to  question  the 
girl,  from  whom  he  learned  that  Jutland,  as  she  per- 
sisted in  calling  the  man,  had  forced  his  way  into  her 
room  and  threatened  her.  Almost  as  soon  as  she 
screamed,  Browning  appeared. 

"The  sly  dog!"  thought  Frank.  "He  must  have 
been  hanging  around  close  by,  waiting  for  something 
to  occur  to  give  him  a  chance  to  see  her." 


358  Browning's  Move. 

While  Frank  talked  with  the  girl,  Bruce  quietly 
disappeared.  Finding  he  was  gone,  the  girl  said : 

"He  is  such  a  noble  fellow !  You  should  have  seen 
him,  Mr.  Merriwell.  Why,  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
seize  the  ruffian,  and  he  handled  him  with  such  ease! 
It  was  wonderful!  And  he  has  gone  away  without 
giving  me  a  chance  to  thank  him.  You  must  send 
him  back  here,  that  I  may  express  my  thanks." 

So,  when  Frank  left  the  room,  he  sought  for  Bruce, 
whom  he  found  calmly  smoking  a  cigarette  outside  the 
hotel,  with  the  other  boys  near. 

"Browning,  you  big  rascal,"  said  Merriwell,  "Miss 
Harding  wants  to  express  her  thanks." 

"What  for?"  asked  Bruce,  in  a  surprised  way. 

"Why,  for  what  you  did,  of  course — for  throwing 
Jutland  out  of  the  window." 

"Oh,  rats!" 

With  that  Bruce  calmly  continued  smoking. 

"Marser  Frank,"  said  Toots,  hesitatingly,  "was 
tellin'  ob  de  boys  dat  de  bes'  thing  we  can  do  is  teh  git 
out  ob  dis  place  right  erway.  Tek  mah  wo'd  fo'  it, 
sar,  we's  gwan  teh  git  in  an'  awful  heap  ob  trouble  if 
we  don't  do  dat." 


Browning's  Move.  359 

"You  are  nervous,  Toots.  We  can't  run  away  and 
leave  this  young  lady  in  such  a  position.  We'll  have  to 
stay  till  she  can  get  out  of  the  town." 

"Den  some  ob  us  is  nebber  gwan  teh  git  out,  yo'  heah 
me !  An'  de  chance  am  about  f o'  teh  one  dat  I  am  dat 
pusson.  Lordy !  Lordy !  I  dunno  why  dis  nigger  ebber 
tried  teh  trabbel  'crost  de  country  on  a  bisuckle !" 

Later  it  was  found  that,  strange  though  it  seemed, 
the  man  who  had  been  thrown  out  of  the  window  did 
not  appear  to  be  seriously  injured  and  had  left  the 
hotel. 

While  the  boys  were  making  inquiries  concerning 
him,  loud  voices  were  heard  in  the  barroom.  Frank 
recognized  the  voice  of  the  ruffian  Handsome  Bob, 
who  was  pounding  the  bar  with  his  fist,  as  he  hoarsely 
whooped : 

"Whar  is  ther  onery  galoot  as  durst  lay  hands  on 
my  pard,  Paul  Hardin'?  I'm  lookin'  fer  ther  critter, 
an'  I'm  goin'  ter  chaw  him  up  when  I  finds  him !" 

"That's  right!"  shouted  a  short,  chunky,  dark-faced 
man,  as  he  stood  on  his  tiptoes,  in  order  that  he  might 
also  thump  the  bar  with  his  fist.  "I'm  lookin'  fer  him, 


360  Browning's  Move. 

too!  Mr.  Hardin'  is  my  friend,  gents,  a*n'  I  stands  by 
my  friends." 

"Thar,  that'll  do,  Gentle  Jimmy,"  warned  Hand- 
some Bob,  with  a  sweeping  wave  of  his  arm.  "Jest 
you  keep  your  nose  out  o'  this  yar  funeral,  an'  you'll 
enjoy  better  health.  I'm  ther  man  what  does  up  ther 
tenderfoot  that  tackled  Hardin',  an'  I  don't  keer  fer  no 
interferin'  with  my  picnic — none  whatever." 

"All  right,  Robert,"  said  Gentle  Jimmy,  submis- 
sively ;  "but  while  you're  chawin'  up  him,  I  reckon  I'll 
wade  in  an'  chaw  up  all  ther  other  tenderfeet.  We 
might  ez  well  make  a  clean  job  o'  it,  while  we're  about 
it.  We  can't  afford  ter  hev  tenderfeet  come  in  yere  an' 
run  this  yar  town." 

"Not  any!" 

"You  bet  not!" 

"Well,"  said  Frank.  "That  sounds  like  trouble. 
Where  is  Bruce?" 

The  big  fellow  had  disappeared. 

"We  must  stick  together  now,"  Merriwell  declared. 
"It  won't  do  to  get  separated.  We'll  find  Bruce." 

High  and  low  they  searched  for  him.  An  hour  was 
spent  in  this  manner.  At  the  outset  Frank  went  to 


Browning's  Move.  361 

the  room,  of  the  girl  and  asked  if  Browning  had  called 
there.  He  had  been  there  a  few  moments  before,  but 
was  not  there  then. 

Frank  fancied  he  noted  something  peculiar  in  the 
girl's  manner.  She  was  extremely  nervous  and  ex- 
cited, but  this  was  not  strange,  after  all  she  had  passed 
through;  but  she  did  not  seem  to  care  to  talk  with 
him,  and  got  rid  of  him  as  soon  as  possible,  which 
appeared  remarkable. 

However,  in  his  anxiety  over  Browning,  Merriwell 
forgot  this. 

At  the  end  of  an  hour  he  visited  her  room  again. 
There  was  no  response  to  his  knock  on  the  door. 
Again  and  again  he  knocked,  but  the  door  was  not 
opened  for  him. 

Then  he  tried  the  latch,  and  to  his  surprise,  the  door 
readily  opened  before  him. 

A  dim  light  was  burning  in  the  room,  but  the  girl 
was  gone.  Frank  felt  a  sensation  of  astonishment 
and  alarm  shoot  through  his  heart. 

Hastening  to  turn  up  the  lamp,  he  found,  close  be- 
side it,  a  scrap  of  paper.  There  was  writing  on  the 
paper,  and,  as  he  caught  it  up,  he  exclaimed : 


362  Browning's  Move. 

"It  is  from  Browning^  sure  as  fate!  What  does  it 
mean?"' 

This  is  what  he  read : 

"DEAR  FELLOWS  :  I  am  sure  one  of  you  will  discover 
this  before  it  can  fall  into  the  hands  of  any  person  who 
is  not  one  of  our  party,  and  so  I  write  it  and  leave  it 
here.  Miss  Harding  has  absolutely  refused  to  remain 
overnight  in  Buzzardsville.  I  have  bought  two  horses, 
and  we  are  going  to  get  out  of  town  without  delay. 
When  it  is  discovered  we  are  gone,  her  enemy  will 
suppose  she  has  turned  back  toward  the  East,  so  we 
are  going  West,  toward  Poker  Notch.  Follow  us  in 
the  morning,  and  have  my  bicycle  shipped  by  stage.  I 
shall  stand  by  Miss  Harding  as  long  as  she  is  in  dan- 
ger. BRUCE/' 

Frank  Merriwell  could  scarcely  believe  the  evidence 
of  his  eyes.  He  stood  staring  at  the  note  as  if  he 
were  dazed. 

After  a  time  he  started  and  muttered : 

"Great  governor!  is  it  possible?" 

He  still  seemed  in  doubt  He  had  come  to  know 
that  Browning  was  "smashed"  on  Mabel  Harding,  but 
he  had  not  dreamed  that  the  girl  would  choose  the  big 
fellow  to  assist  her  in  her  wild  project  of  nVM  from 
the  camp. 


Browning's  Move.  363 

"Why  didn't  she  say  something  to  me  about  it?" 
came  from  Frank's  lips. 

His  pride  had  received  a  sudden  and  severe  setback, 
and  for  the  moment,  to  confess  the  absolute  truth,  he 
felt  a  twinge  of  jealousy. 

But  Merriwell  was  not  like  ordinary  fellows,  and 
that  moment  of  jealousy  was  followed  by  a  sensation 
of  genuine  satisfaction. 

"By  Jove!"  he  exclaimed,  heartily.  "I  don't  blame 
her!  Browning  is  a  fine  fellow,  and  he  does  look 
rather  handsome,  now  that  he  has  ridden  the  superflu- 
ous flesh  off  him.  The  way  in  which  he  handled  Jut- 
land was  enough  to  make  any  girl  fall  in  love  with 
him.  I  have  had  more  than  my  share  of  the  good 
things,  and  I'm  not  going  to  get  raw  when  some  other 
fellow  gets  ahead  of  me.  Hurrah  for  Browning!" 

Frank  really  was  enthusiastic  over  his  friend's  suc- 
cess. To  Merriwell  it  revealed  a.  new  side  of  the  fel- 
low's character,  for  Bruce  had  never  seemed  to  care 
anything  about  girls. 

But  sober  second  thought  made  Frank  shake  his 
head. 

"I'm  afraid  Bruce  has  made  a  big  mistake  in  this 


364  Browning's  Move. 

move.  He  doesn't  know  anything  of  the  country,  and 
Jutland  will  arouse  the  whole  town  when  hie  dis- 
covers what  has  taken  place.  He'll  say  we  are  seeking 
to  abduct  his  sister,  and  that  is  certain  to  arouse  these 
rough  men  against  us." 

Merriwell's  brain  acted  swiftly  just  then,  and  he 
soon  decided  what  was  the  best  thing  to  do. 

First  he  sought  for  the  key  to  lock  the  door  of  the 
girl's  room,  so  any  one  could  not  enter  and  discover 
she  was  gone.  The  key  was  in  the  lock,  which  was 
very  fortunate. 

Extinguishing  the  light,  Frank  hastily  left  the  room 
and  locked  the  door. 

Three  minutes  later  he  had  found  the  boys  and 
drawn  them  aside.  In  a  low  tone,  he  told  them  just 
what  had  happened. 

"Wheejiz !"  gasped  Harry  Rattleton,  clutching  at 
his  heart.  "Browning — has  Browning  run  off  with 
the  girl  ?" 

"He  has." 

"Well,  I  knew  he  was  stuck  on  her,  but  I  thought 
you  had  first  call  there.  I  didn't  suppose  he  had  a 
show." 


Browning's  Move.  365 

"Doesn't  this  go  to  prove  that  she  is  crazy?"  asked 
Diamond,  seriously.  "Only  a  crazy  girl  would  do 
such  a  thing." 

"Dat  am  right,"  agreed  Toots.  "No  gal  dat  wasn't 
crazy'd  evah  think  ob  takin'  nobody  else  when  dey 
could  git  Frank  Merriwell  teh  run  erway  wif  'em." 

"And  Bruce  must  have  been  a  little  daffy  himself, 
or  he  would  have  let  the  whole  of  us  into  the  game," 
said  Harry. 

"The  girl  must  have  been  determined  to  get  away, 
and  Bruce  feared  I  would  object,"  said  Frank.  "That's 
why  he  did  the  thing  in  such  a  way." 

"I  am  afraid  it  will  turn  out  that  the  fellow  she  calls 
Jutland  is  her  real  brother,"  declared  Diamond.  "To 
me  it  seems  there  is  something  crazy  about  this  sudden 
move  of  hers." 

"What  are  we  to  do?"  asked  Rattleton, 

"Follow  them,"  answered  Frank. 

"How?" 

"On  our  wheels." 

"The  whole  town  will  know  it." 

"I  think  not." 

""Why  not?" 


366  Browning's  Move. 

"We  mustn't  let  them." 

"How  can  we  prevent  it?" 

"We  must  find  a  way  to  get  our  wheels  and  get  out 
of  the  hotel  without  letting  them  know  anything  about 
it" 

"I  am  afraid  that  will  not  be  easy." 

"Well,  we'll  try  it,  anyway." 

"We'll  have  to  settle  with  the  proprietor.  He's 
keeping  those  wheels  as  security  for  our  board." 

"I  believe  he  can  be  fixed,"  said  Frank.  "Just  keep 
out  of  sight,  while  I  find  him  and  have  a  talk  with 
him." 

Then  Merriwell  left  them  to  look  after  the  hotel- 
keeper. 

In  less  than  thirty  minutes  he  was  back,  and  he  told 
them  everything  was  all  right. 

"He  will  hold  Browning's  wheel,  and  ship  it  any- 
where after  hearing  from  us.  I  have  settled  with  him, 
and  have  fixed  it  all  right  by  giving  him  a  fiver  for  his 
trouble.  He  seemed  rather  relieved  to  know  we  meant 
to  get  out,  as  he  is  afraid  Handsome  Bob  and  his  gang 
will  do  us  up  if  we  remain  here." 

"He  doesn't  know  the  girl  is  gone?"  asked  Jack. 


Browning's  Move.  367 

"Of  course  not.  I  didn't  know  what  he  might  think 
about  that,  and  so  I  kept  still  about  it." 

"That  was  all  right,  but  when,  where  and  how  are 
we  to  get  our  wheels?" 

"We  are  to  get  them  right  away  from  the  back  of 
the  hotel.  He  will  get  them  out  for  us." 

Frank  led  the  way,  and  they  passed  around  the  build- 
ing. As  they  went  under  a  window  of  the  barroom, 
they  could  hear  Handsome  Bob  still  railing  about  ten- 
derfeet  and  telling  what  he  was  going  to  do  to  a  few 
who  were  in  town. 

"He  is  waiting  to  get  good  and  drunK  before  he 
does  anything,"  said  Frank.  "We  will  be  gone  when 
he  starts  to  gun  for  us  in  earnest." 

"Will  we  be  able  to  find  our  way  to  Poker  Notch 
in  the  darkness?"  Harry  anxiously  inquired. 

"We  can't  miss  the  way,  the  hotel  proprietor  says. 
There  is  but  one  road,  and  that  is  the  regular  stage 
trail." 

Around  at  the  back  of  the  hotel  they  paused  and 
waited.  After  a  time  a  door  was  opened,  and  a  man 
thrust  his  head  out.  Frank  whistled  softly,  and  then 
called : 


368  Browning's  Move. 

"Bring  out  the  wheels." 

"All  right,"  came  back,  in  guarded  tones. 

Immediately  he  ran  out  one  of  the  bicycles,  which 
the  boys  were  on  hand  to  receive. 

One  by  one  the  wheels  were  brought  out,  till  all 
were  there.  Then  Frank  picked  out  Browning's  wheel 
and  told  the  man  that  was  the  one  for  him  to  keep. 

"Don't  let  'em  know  we  are  gone,"  said  Frank. 
"Keep  it  till  morning,  as  it  will  save  us  trouble." 

"I'll  keep  still,  don't  yer  worry  .about  that.  Good 
luck  ter  yer.  Steer  clear  o'  Buzzardsville  in  the 
future." 

They  kept  away  from  the  single  street  of  the  place 
as  they  crept  along  toward  the  western  end  of  the 
town. 

As  they  were  leaving  the  vicinity  of  the  hotel,  a  re- 
volver was  discharged  six  times  in  the  barroom,  and 
Handsome  Bob  was  heard  bellowing  like  a  bull  for  the 
gore  of  tenderfeet. 

"That  fellow  is  a  big  braggart,"  said  Frank,  in  dis- 
gust, "and  he  would  be  scared  to  death  of  a  man  he 
fancied  was  liable  to  do  some  shooting.  The  trouble 


Browning's  Move.  369 

is  that  he  might  kill  one  or  two  of  us  before  he  found 
out  we  were  not  shaking  our  toenails  off  in  terror." 

"Land  ob  watermillions !"  chattered  Toots  from  the 
darkness  near  at  -hand.  "Mah  toenails  am  all  right,  but 
mah  knees  am  so  weak  they'll  hahdly  hold  up  mah 
boady.  I  don't  car'  'bout  habbin'  anything  ter  do  wif 
no  such  pussons  as  dat  Han'som  Bob." 

"I  wonder  where  Jutland  has  kept  himself  ever  since 
he  left  the  hotel  after  recovering  from  his  rough  treat- 
ment by  Bruce?"  said  Jack. 

"I  don't  know,"  admitted  Frank.  "It  strikes  me 
that  Handsome  Bob  is  waiting  for  Jutland  to  return 
before  he  tackles  us." 

They  were  getting  along  finely,  and  had  but  one 
more  building  to  pass.  The  ground  was  rough  and 
uneven,  so  that  it  was  necessary  to  pick  their  way  along 
with  great  caution. 

All  at  once  Toots  stepped  on  a  rock  that  rolled  under 
his  foot,  and  with  a  yell  of  fear,  the  colored  boy  fell 
and  rolled  down  the  low,  rocky  bank,  his  bicycle  rat- 
tling along  after  him. 

"Oh !"  cried  Rattleton.  "That's  enough  'to  arouse 
the  whole  town !  Hang  such  a  blundering  nigger !" 


370  Browning's  Move. 

Frank  hurried  down  to  where  Toots  lay  and  helped 
him  to  get  up,  asking : 

"Are  you  hurt?" 

"My  gracious,  I — I  dunno!"  chattered  the  darky. 
"I  done  stepped  on  somefin'  dat  moved  an'  frowed  me 
down." 

"Well,  get  up!  Be  lively!  That  yell  of  yours 
might  have  been  heard  all  over  town.  It  will  be  a 
wonder " 

"Hist!"  came  down  from  above.  "Somebody  is 
coming!  We'd  better  make  a  break  for  it." 

It  was  true.  Several  men  were  approaching,  head- 
ing straight  for  the  spot.  Frank  saw  that  the  only 
thing  to  do  was  to  run  for  it. 

"Now  you  mjust  keep  on  your  feet  and  stick  to  us, 
Toots,"  he  sternly  said.  "If  you  slip  up  now,  you'll 
fall  into  the  hands  of  the  men  of  the  town,  and  that 
means  rough  treatment." 

A  moment  later  he  gave  the  word.  Then,  lifting 
their  wheels,  the  four  boys  ran  down  the  rocky  slope, 
reached  the  road  and  prepared  to  mount. 

Through  the  darkness  the  approaching  men  saw 
their  movements,  and  at  the  same  time  from  away 


Browning's  Move.  371 

toward  the  hotel  came  wild  howls  of  fury,  as  if  Hand- 
some Bob  had  made  a  discovery. 

"He's  found  out  we're  gone,  or  the  hotel-keeper  has 
told  him!"  Frank  said.  "He  is  giving  the  alarm. 
The  whole  town  will  be  after  us  in  less  than  five  mir*- 
utes !" 

"Hold  on  thar !"  cried  the  approaching  men. 

"Ready!"  cried  Frank. 

"All  ready,"  came  from  his  companions. 

"Mount!" 

Into  the  saddles  they  sprang,  and  away  they  went. 

Again  the  men  shouted  at  them,  but  they  paid  no  at- 
tention to  the  cries. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE    LANDSLIDE. 

"We's  nebber  gwan  teh  git  out  ob  dis  country  wif 
ouah  lives,  chilluns!"  chattered  Toots,  as  he  pumped 
away  at  his  pedals.  "The  men  out  heah  are  heap  sight 
wuss'n  cowboys — yes,  sar!" 

Jack  started  to  tell  the  colored  lad  that  it  was  all  his 
fault  that  they  had  been  discovered  while  getting  out 
of  Buzzardsville,  but  Frank  stopped  that  with  a  word. 

"We  are  here  to  stick  together,  and  not  to  growl  at 
each  other,"  he  declared.  "Any  of  us  is  liable  to  make 
a  mistake.  It  had  been  discovered  at  the  hotel  that 
we  were  missing  when  Toots  took  his  tumble." 

The  road  was  not  of  the  kind  to  make  riding  pleas- 
ant, especially  in  the  dark.  It  was  rough  and  rocky, 
and  it  seemed  wonderful  that  none  of  the  boys  sus- 
tained a  severe  fall  in  their  first  wild  dash  out  of  town. 

Soon  the  road  became  ascending,  and  grew  more  dif- 
ficult. It  was  not  long  before  the  four  lads  were 
forced  to  dismount  and  trundle  their  wheels. 


The  Landslide.  373 

By  this  time  all  were  breathing  heavily.  When  they 
paused  a  moment  to  look  back  they  could  see  a  few 
lights  in  the  valley  below,  telling  them  where  Buzzards- 
ville  lay. 

The  word  came  from  Frank. 

They  listened. 

"Hark!" 

Co-latter !  co-latter !  co-latter ! — the  sound  of  gallop- 
ing horses  came  from  the  trail  below,  telling  them  that 
mounted  men  were  in  pursuit.  They  heard  hoarse 
voices  calling  to  each  other. 

"They  are  after  us  hotfoot,"  said  Frank,  coolly. 
"We'll  have  to  manage  to  give  them  the  slip,  if  we 
can't  run  away  from  them  on  this  road." 

They  hastened  along  as  fast  as  possible,  but  the 
climb  made  them  pant  for  breath,  and  they  could  tell 
that  their  pursuers  were  gaining  steadily,  which  was 
rather  discouraging. 

However,  after  a  time  they  came  to  the  top  of  the 
ascent,  so  they  were  able  to  remount  and  ride  onward. 

They  sent  the  machines  flying  over  the  rough  road 
at  a  most  dangerous  speed,  Frank  leading. 

It  was  a  wild  and  reckless  ride  through  the  night, 


374  The  Landslide. 

but  the  boys  demonstrated  that  a  bicycle  is  better  than 
a  horse  under  such  circumstances,  for  they  finally 
eluded  their  pursuers. 

Hours  later,  near  morning,  they  reached  Poker 
Notch,  a  town  of  five  houses  set  amid  the  mountains. 

Choosing  the  biggest  of  the  houses,  Frank  proceeded 
to  hammer  on  the  door  till  some  one  was  aroused.  A 
window  was  opened,  and  the  hoarse  voice  of  a  man 
demanded : 

"Who  are  yer?  and  whatever  do  yur  want?  What 
be  yer  thumpin'  'round  yere  at  this  time  o'  night  f er  ?" 

"Is  this  Poker  Notch?" 

"It  be," 

"Where  is  the  hotel  here?" 

"Ain't  none." 

"Well,  then,  where  do  travelers  put  up  ?" 

"Ain't  many  travelers  stops  yere,  but  them  as  do, 
generally  puts  up  with  me.  Who  be  yer?" 

Frank  explained  that  they  were  bicycle  tourists  from 
the  East. 

"Hey?"  cried  the  man,  suspiciously,  and  the  boys 
saw  a  frowsy  head  thrust  out  of  the  window,  so  the 
man  could  get  a  look  at  them  in  the  darkness.  "Bi- 


The  Landslide.  .,375 

suckles?  You  ain't  tryin'  ter  ride  through  this  yar 
country  on  them  things,  be  yer  ?" 

Frank  assured  the  astonished  man  that  they  were, 
and  then  made  inquiries  for  Browning  and  the  girl. 

The  man  had  not  seen  Bruce  and  Mabel. 

"What  does  that  mean  ?"  anxiously  asked  Jack. 

"It  means  that  they  are  stopping  at  some  other  place 
in  Poker  Notch.  As  there  is  no  hotel,  it  is  probable 
they  went  to  one  of  the  other  houses  where  they  ob- 
tained accommodations." 

"What  shall  we  do—hunt  them  up?" 

"Not  before  morning." 

"That's  right,"  said  the  man  at  the  window.  "It 
might  not  be  healthy  ter  go  hammerin'  'round  some 
o'  t'other  places.  Thar's  Jake  Ryan,  why,  he'd  shoot 
at  yer  first,  an'  ask  who  yer  was  arterward." 

"Then  I  think  we  will  not  disturb  Mr.  Ryan  to- 
night," smiled  Frank.  "Come  down  and  let  us  in. 
We  will  pay  for  accommodations." 

"All  right.     Will  be  right  down." 

So  they  remained  there  till  morning,  and  took  break- 
fast there,  after  which,  feeling  sure  Browning  and 


376  The  Landslide. 

Miss  Harding  were  in  Poker  Notch,  Frank  started  out 
to  look  for  them. 

He  returned  in  a  short  time,  bringing  the  astonish- 
ing and  disquieting  information  that  the  ones  he  sought 
were  not  to  be  found.  It  was  certain  they  -had  not 
stopped  in  Poker  Notch. 

"Well,  what  do  you  think  about  that?"  asked  Jack 
Diamond,  excitedly. 

"One  of  two  things  is  certain." 

"What  are  the  two  things  ?" 

"Either  they  continued  straight  through  the  place, 
or  else  they  made  a  mistake  at  Buzzardsville  and  turned 
back  eastward,  instead  of  going  this  way." 

"I'll  think  what  I  tell  you — I  mean  I'll  tell  you  what 
I  think!"  cried  Rattleton.  "I  believe  Browning  is 
crazy,  as  well  as  the  girl.  If  he  hadn't  been  daffy, 
•he'd  never  run  off  with  her  that  way." 

"Well,  what  are  we  to  do?"  asked  Jack,  in  per- 
plexity. 

"I'll  have  to  take  time  to  decide,"  said  Frank. 

"And  while  you  are  taking  time,  Jutland,  Handsome 
Bob  and  the  rest  of  the  gang  from!  Buzzardsville  will 
come  over  and  take  us." 


The  Landslide.  377 

Still  it  was  foolish  to  make  any  move  without  con- 
sideration, they  all  knew. 

Frank  was  not  a  little  perplexed  by  Browning's 
action.  He  felt  that  Bruce  should  have  consulted 
him. 

"I'd  given  him  a  show  with  the  girl,"  said  Merri- 
well,  mentally.  "If  she  had  seemed  to  care  more  for 
him  than  she  did  for  me,  he  would  have  found  me  the 
last  fellow  in  the  world  to  get  in  his  way." 

While  thinking  it  over,  Frank  wandered  about  the 
town.  It  was  fortunate  that  he  did  so,  for  he  came 
upon  a  bit  of  paper  that  lay  on  the  top  of  a  large 
bowlder  close  beside  the  trail  where  it  entered  Poker 
Notch.  The  paper  was  held  there  by  a  small  stone, 
and,  fluttering  in  the  wind,  attracted  Frank's  atten- 
tion. 

As  soon  as  he  secured  the  paper,  Merriwell  saw  there 
were  a  few  words  scrawled  upon  it  with  a  lead  pencil. 

"Browning's  writing!"  he  cried,  with  deep  satis- 
faction. "He  has  been  here!  That  point  is  settled." 

With  considerable  difficulty,  Frank  made  out  the 
following  words : 


3?8  The  Landslide. 

"Miss  Harding  fears  Jutland,  and  refuses  to  stop  in 
Poker  Notch.  We  have  gone  on  westward.  Follow 
us.  B." 

"That  is  all  I  want  to  know !"  cried  Frank,  as  he  has- 
tened back  to  his  friends. 

It  did  not  take  the  boys  long  to  get  out  their  wheels 
and  start  westward  along  the  stage  trail. 

The  road  was  rougher  than  the  one  over  which  they 
had  been  traveling.  In  places  they  were  forced  to 
dismount  and  literally  carry  their  wheels. 

Diamond  followed  Frank  doggedly,  without  a  word, 
while  Harry  tried  to  joke,  but  Toots  complained  bit- 
terly. 

"Nebber  seen  no  such  country  as  dis — nebber  in  all 
mjah  bawn  days!"  he  grumbled.  "Bigges'  hills  dat 
ebber  growed  anywhar.  En  how's  we  gwan  teh  git 
ober  'em,  dat's  what  I  wants  teh  know?  I'll  bet  fo* 
dollars  dis  road  comes  to  an  en'  away  up  heah  in  de 
hills,  an'  dat  am  all  dar  am  teh  it.  Cayarn't  no  road 
ebber  go  ober  such  hills  as  dese.  Tork  about  yeh 
Rocker  Mount'ns — I  sh'u'd  say  dey  wuz!  Nebber 
dreamed  dar  wuz  so  much  Ian'  stuck  up  endways  out 
heah — no,  sir!" 


'*he  Landslide.  ^79 

"If  you  didn't  talk  so  much,  you'd  have  more 
breath,"  said  Rattleton.  "Keep  your  mouth  closed, 
and  give  it  a  rest" 

"G'way,  boy!  Don't  git  too  lib'rul  wif  yo'  advice, 
'case  yeh  might  cramp  yehself  bein'  so  generous.  Mah 
mouf  b'longs  teh  me,  I's  gwan  teh  use  it  when  I  wants 
teh." 

"Then  you  can,  drop  behind,  so  you  won't  bother 
the  rest  of  us." 

"I  dunno.  Who  let  you  give  ordars,  sar?  You 
ain't  der  only  one,  Mistah  Rattleton.  But  I  dunno's 
I  car'  fo'  yo'  comp'ny  nohow,  so  I  will  drop  behind, 
sar." 

And  Toots  did  so,  following  the  others  at  a  distance, 
and  continuing  to  grumble  and  mutter. 

The  trail  wound  around  the  side  of  a  mountain,  with 
the  ragged  rocks  hanging  far  above.  Jack  looked  up, 
saw  those  rocks,  and  was  about  to  make  a  remark 
about  them,  when  there  came  a  strange  low  sound  from 
the  mountain.  The  sound  grew  louder  and  louder, 
rapidly  swelling  into  a  roar. 

"What  is  it?"  shouted  Rattleton,  as  the  boys  stood 


380  The  Landslide. 

with  blanched  faces,  listening  to  that  appalling  and 
increasing  volume  of  sound. 

"A  landslide!"  cried  Frank,  as  he  pointed  upward. 
"Look!  look!  The  entire  mountainside  is  rushing 
down  upon  us!  We  shall  be  overwhelmed!  We  are 
lost!" 


CHAPTER  XXXIL 

OVER    THE    PRECIPICE. 

Far  above  them  the  whole  side  of  the  mountain 
seemed  to  be  moving,  rushing  downward  toward  the 
valley.  Rocks,  earth  and  trees  were  sweeping  along, 
some  of  the  latter  remaining  in  an  upright  position, 
as  they  had  grown. 

"It  is  a  landslide!"  came  chokingly  from  Jack. 

Frank  shouted  to  Toots : 

"Look  out — look  out  for  the  landslide!" 

He  waved  his  arms  and  pointed  upward.  The  col- 
ored boy  had  been  staring  around  to  see  where  the 
roaring  sound  came  from,  and  now,  looking  in  the 
direction  indicated  by  Merriwell,  he  saw  the  moving 
mountainside. 

"Oh,  mah  soul !"  wailed  the  darky,  his  face  seeming 
to  take  on  a  grayish  color.  "De  whole  mount'n  am 
runnin'  erway  for  suah!  An'  it  am  gwan  teh  run 
right  ober  dis  nigger  I" 


382  Over  the  Precipice. 

Literally  shaking  with  fear,  he  closed  his  eyes  and 
waited  for  the  landslide  to  overwhelm  him. 

Frank,  Jack  and  Harry  made  a  desperate  scramble 
to  get  out  of  the  way,  although  such  an  eftort  seemed 
hopeless  at  first.  However,  they  were  able  to  clear 
•  themselves  of  the  landslide,  although  Harry  was  barely 
successful  in  doing  so,  as  the  ground  beneath  his  feet 
quivered  and  slid  away  with  the  rest  of  the  mass, 
Jack  having  caught  him  by  the  collar  and  held  him, 
while  Frank  saved  his  bicycle. 

They  looked  for  Toots,  and  were  barely  in  time  to 
see  him  disappear  from  view  far  below,  being  carried 
along  on  the  very  surface  of  the  roaring  slide,  stand- 
ing erect  in  an  attitude  of  prayer. 

"Poor  boy!"  came  hoarsely  from  Frank's  lips. 
"That  is  the  last  we'll  ever  see  of  him !  He's  gone  for- 
ever!" 

"That's  right,**  nodded  Diamond.  "By  the  time  the 
last  of  the  slide  reaches  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  he 
will  be  buried  beneath  tons  of  rock  and  earth." 

"And  I  am  to  blame  for  it!"  cried  Harrv,  in  deep 
self-reproach. 

"How  is  that?"  asked  Frank. 


Over  the  Precipice.  383 

"If  I  had  not  jumped  on  him  about  his  grumbling, 
he  would  not  have  been  so  far  behind  us,  and  so  he'd 
escaped  with  the  rest  of  us." 

"It  simply  happened  that  way,  so  I  do  not  see  that 
there  is  anything  for  which  you  can  blame  yourself. 
By  staying  behind  he  might  have  escaped  the  slide, 
had  it  come  down  on  us.  Let  us  be  thankful  for  our 
own  safety,  and " 

His  words  were  drowned  by  a  frightful  roar  that 
came  up  from  the  valley  far  below,  telling  that  the 
slide  had  reached  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  where  it 
was  piled  in  a  chaotic  mass. 

"Poor  Toots!"  murmured  Frank,  a  mist  filling  his 
eyes.  "We  little  thought  when  he  was  saying  he'd 
never  live  to  reach  San  Francisco  that  he  was  speak- 
ing the  truth." 

"He  was  a  white  nigger,"  declared  Diamond. 

"That  is  right,"  agreed  Rattleton.  "I've  had  any 
amount  of  fun  with  that  darky.  Say,  Frank,  this 
takes  all  the  sport  out  of  our  tour.  The  fun  is  gone 
from  it  now." 

"You  are  right,"  confessed  Merriwell     "I  do  not 


384  Over  the  Precipice. 

think  I  care  about  finishing  the  ride  to  the  Pacific 
Coast.  I  am  willing  to  put  my  wheel  on  board  a  train 
and  go  home." 

"Are  you  going  to  make  an  attempt  to  recover 
[Toots'  body?" 

"Of  course  I  shall  do  whatever  can  be  done,  but  it  is 
hot  possible  to  do  anything  now.  The  road  behind  us 
has  been  destroyed  by  the  slide,  so  there  is  no  possi- 
bility of  turning  back.  We  must  go  on." 

Go  on  they  did,  but  it  was  a  sorry  party  that  went  on. 
Their  faces  were  sad,  and  their  hearts  were  heavy  with 
grief. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Diamond,  "that  all  our 
troubles  began  when  we  first  encountered  that  crazy 
girl,  Miss  Harding." 

"Is  it  possible  that  you  really  think  her  crazy?" 
asked  Frank. 

"Something  seems  to  convince  me  that  she  is.  And 
I  believe  the  chap  who  claimed  to  be  her  brother  is  all 
right." 

"In  which  case,  we  are  all  wrong." 


Over  the  Precipice.  385 

"Sure  as  fate." 

"Wait — wait  till  we  reach  the  next  town  and  see 
Browning  has  to  say." 

"We  can't  take  any  stock  in  anything  he  says,"  de- 
clared Rattleton.  "He  is  daffy  himself  over  the  girl." 

The  road  grew  more  and  rrtore  dangerous  as  they 
proceeded.  At  last  it  wound  around  the  side  of  the 
mountain,  with  a  bluff  of  rocks  on  one  side  and  a  great 
precipice  on  the  other.  At  the  foot  of  the  precipice, 
away  down  in  the  depths  of  the  canyon,  ran  a  small 
river,  which  looked  like  a  tiny  thread.  The  boys  had 
paused  to  look  down  at  the  river  and  wonder  if  a  per- 
son would  be  dead  before  the  stream  was  reached  in 
ca.se  they  fell  from  the  road. 

At  last  Frank  determined  to  see  what  he  could  do 
riding  his  wheel,  as  he  was  tired  of  trundling  it  along. 

He  mounted  and  started  up  the  road,  while  Jack  and 
Harry  followed  more  slowly,  still  content  to  push  the 
machines  along. 

Frank  stuck  to  the  job  of  riding  up  the  road,  difficult 
though  it  proved,  till  he  came  to  a  strip  that  was  not 


386  Over  the  Precipice. 

so  hard,  where  it  wound  around  a  spur  of  the  moun- 
tain. 

Then  it  was  that,  once  more,  he  heard  a  rumbling 
sound. 

"Another  landslide!" 

The  thought  filled  him  with  horror,  and  he  looked 
upward,  expecting  to  see  the  earth  and  rocks  rushing 
down  upon  him. 

To  his  surprise,  he  saw  no  landslide,  although  the 
rumbling  continued,  growing  louder  and  louder. 

Far  behind  him  Jack  and  Harry  were  slowly  toiling 
up  the  ascent. 

At  that  point  the  road  was  very  narrow  and  danger- 
ous, having  been  blasted  from  the  side  of  the  moun- 
tain. 

It  seemed  that  Merriwell  could  feel  the  ground 
quiver  beneath  his  bicycle,  and  yet  he  failed  to  dis- 
cover the  cause  of  it  all. 

Then,  all  at  once,  around  the  spur  of  rock  came 
the  regular  stagecoach  from  the  West. 

But  there  was  no  driver  on  the  box,  and  the  reins 
flew  loose,  while  the  horses,  freed  from  restraint  and 


Over  the  Precipice.  387 

urged  onward  by  the  weight  of  the  heavy  coach,  the 
latter  unchecked  by  the  brake,  were  madly  tearing 
ateng  the  dangerous  road. 

It  was  a  sight  to  chill  the  stoutest  heart. 

Frank  had  little  time  for  thought,  as  the  horses 
were  close  upon  him  in  a  moment,  their  eyes  glaring 
and  foam  flying  from  their  lips. 

There  was  no  room  to  turn  out,  and  to  be  run  over 
by  those  horses  and  the  heavy  coach  meant  certain 
death. 

What  was  to  be  done? 

Whatever  was  done  must  be  done  quickly,  as  the  boy 
realized.  He  saw  death  staring  him  in  the  face,  and 
there  seemed  no  way  of  avoiding  it. 

The  bluff  of  rock,  grim,  forbidding,  unscalable,  lay 
to  the  right.  To  the  left  was  the  frightful  precipice 
and  the  dark  depths  of  the  canyon, 

Merriwell  could  not  dismount  and  turn  around,  and 
there  was  not  enough  room  to  turn  quickly  without  dis- 
mounting. If  he  were  to  try  it,  he  would  be  beaten 
down  and  crushed  beneath  those  hoofs  and  wheels  be- 
fore the  task  could  be  half  accomplished. 

'A  wild  cry  pealed  from  his  lips — a  cry  he  knew 


388  Over  the  Precipice. 

would  reach  the  ears  of  his  friends  and  warn  them  of 
the  danger. 

There  was  something  of  farewell  in  that  cry — some- 
thing of  despair. 

Then  like  a  flash  Frank  turned  to  the  left  and  pedaled 
straight  over  the  brink  of  the  precipice  1 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE  DEADLY   MOUNTAINS. 

Jack  and  Harry  heard  that  cry.  Already  they  had 
detected  the  rumbling  sound,  but  they  had  not  been 
able  to  tell  whence  it  came. 

Looking  up  the  road,  however,  they  saw  the  horses 
come  into  view,  whirling  the  stage  around  the  turn  on 
two  wheels.  For  a  moment  it  seemed  that  the  coach 
would  go  over  into  the  canyon  and  drag  the  horses 
clown,  but  this  did  not  happen. 

Instead,  to  their  unutterable  horror,  they  saw  Frank 
pedal  straight  over  the  brink  and  disappear. 

"Merciful  Heaven!"  gasped  the  young  Virginian. 
"That  is  the  end  of  him !" 

"And  it  will  be  the  end  of  us,  if  we  do  not  give  those 
horses  a  clear  road!"  shouted  Rattleton.  "Here  is  a 
bare  chance !  Quick — follow  me !" 

Off  his  wheel  he  leaped,  ran  it  to  the  right-hand  side 
of  the  road,  where  he  flattened  himself  and  the  ma- 
chine against  the  wall  of  rock. 


390  The  Deadly  Mountains 

Jack  followed  Harry's  example,  finding  a  place 
where  it  seemed  possible  that  he  might  escape  being 
struck  by  the  wheels  of  the  stage. 

Scarcely  were  they  in  time.  The  stage  flew  past 
them  seemed  to  brush  them,  and  went  careening  down 
the  trail. 

Flattened  against  the  rocks,  two  white-faced,  shiv- 
ering lads  stood  and  watched  the  runaway  coach  till  it 
disappeared. 

Harry  started  to  say  something,  but  his  voice  choked 
and  died  in  his  throat.  His  bicycle  fell  over  on  the 
ground,  and  he  sank  down  limply,  burying  his  face  in 
his  hands. 

Jack  was  stronger.  He  reached  Harry's  side,  and 
his  hand  fell  on  the  shoulder  of  the  shaking  boy. 

"Brace  up,  old  man!  The  stage  has  passed  us,  and 
we  are  all  right.  There  is  no  further  danger." 

The  face  that  Rattleton  lifted  was  contorted  with 
unspeakable  anguish.  He  put  out  a  quivering  hand, 
and  got  hold  of  Jack's  fingers,  to  which  he  clung. 

"Frank !"  he  whispered. 

Then  Jack  knew  of  what  Harry  was  thinking,  and 
his  own  heart  was  wrung  with  anguish. 


The  Deadly  Mountains.  39i 

Both  boys  turned  and  looked  up  the  trail,  Rattleton 
crouching  on  -his  knees.  There  seemed  to  be  a  hope 
in  their  eyes  that  they  might  see  their  friend  and  com- 
rade somewhere  up  there — a  hope  that  they  had  been 
deceived  some  way,  and  that  Merriwell  had  not 
plunged  over  the  brink  of  the  precipice. 

But  the  road  was  clear,  and  the  one  they  looked  for, 
the  friend  they  loved  and  admired  most  in  all  the  wide 
world,  was  gone. 

Harry  covered  his  face  again,  and  Jack  choked  back 
the  hard  lump  that  arose  in  his  throat. 

"Gone!"  came  huskily  from  Rattleton;  "gone  for- 
ever!" 

Jack  could  not  speak.  He  lifted  one  hand  to  his 
head,  still  staring  up  the  trail  with  a  stony  look. 

Suddenly  Harry  turned  to  Jack,  and  almost 
shrieked : 

"Do  you  understand— do  you  realize  what  has  hap- 
pened? Frank  rode  over  the  edge  up  there  to  escape 
from  the  runaway  horses !" 

"Yes." 

Diamond  uttered  the  word  mechanically. 


392  The  Deadly  Mountains. 

Harry  leaped  to  his  feet,  like  a  wild  creature,  and 
grappled  with  his  companion,  whom  he  savagely  shook. 

"Do  you  know  what  it  means,  man?"  he  screamed. 
"Do  you  understand  that  Frank  dropped  to  his  death 
when  he  rode  over  there?  Are  you  in  a,  trance?" 

"Steady,  Rattleton!"  warned  Diamond.  "You  are 
going  crazy !" 

"Well,  isn't  it  enough  to  drive  one  crazy  ?  Oh,  mer- 
ciful heavens!  Think  of  it — Frank — Frank  Merri- 
well,  the  whitest  fellow  who  ever  lived,  the  pride  of 
Yale,  gone  to  his  death  in  a  moment!" 

"It  is  terrible!" 

"Terrible!  Man,  it  is  awful!  Why  couldn't  it 
have  been  one  of  us — why  couldn't  it  have  been  me!" 

And  then  the  language  that  flowed  from  Rattleton's 
lips  fairly  appalled  Diamond.  Harry  raved  like  a 
madman,  ending  by  bursting  into  tears  and  again  sink- 
ing limply  to  the  ground. 

"Come,  old  fellow,"  said  Jack.  "You  must  brace 
up,  or  we  may  never  get  out  of  these  mountains  our- 
selves." 

"I  don't  care!"  sobbed  Harry.  "I  don't  want  to  get 
out  of  the  mountains !  I  believe  we  are  doomed." 


The  Deadly  Mountains.  393 

"And  it  is  all  because  of  that  crazy  girl,"  muttered 
the  boy  from  Virginia.  "She  has  brought  us  this 
luck.  We  have  had  nothing  but  the  most  frightful 
luck  ever  since  we  met  her." 

It  was  some  time  before  they  could  recover  at  all 
from  the  fearful  shock  their  nerves  had  sustained. 
Harry  was  weak  and  limp  as  a  rag,  seeming  without 
strength  to  move  at  all. 

"Come,  come,  Rattleton!"  said  Diamond.  "I  loved 
Frank  Merriwell  quite  as  much  as-  you  could  have 
loved  him,  but  I  know  we  must  not  let  -his  death  over- 
come us  in  this  manner." 

There  was  a  look  of  madness  on  Rattleton's  sorrow- 
contorted  face,  as  he  shouted : 

"You  lie,  Jack  Diamond !  You  could  not  have  loved 
him  as  I  loved  him !  If  you  had,  you  would  not  be  so 
calm!  I  roomed  with  him  at  Yale — we  were  chums. 
I  knew  him,  better  than  you  knew  him,  and  I  know 
what  a  loss  the  world  has  sustained.  It  would  not 
seem  such  a  frightful  thing  if  it  had  not  come  so  sud- 
denly." 

"He  may  not  be  dead." 

"He  must  be  dead!     No  human  being  could  fall 


394  The  Deadly  Mountains. 

'down  there  and  escape  death.  Oh,  yes,  he  is  dead — • 
dead!  Poor  Frank!" 

"Let's  go  up  there  and  see — let's  look  over.  It  may 
be  that  he  saw  some  way  to  escape,  and  that  was  why 
he  rode  over  the  precipice/' 

A  ray  of  hope,  faint  and  flickering,  seemed  to  pierce 
Rattleton's  grief-torn  heart. 

"Yes,  yes!"  he  huskily  whispered;  "it  may  be — it 
may  be!  We  will  go  up  there  and  see.  Come,  Jack 
—come!" 

They  left  their  wheels  and  ran  up  the  road,  pant- 
ing, stumbling,  staggering.  For  all  of  his  weakness  of 
a  short  time  before,  Rattleton  ran  the  faster  and 
reached  the  spot  first. 

Then  it  was  that  Jack  feared  Harry  was  on  the  point 
of  leaping  over,  and  as  he  came  up  the  Virginian 
clutched  his  friend  and  held  onto  him. 

They  lay  down  and  peered  over  the  face  of  the  preci- 
pice. Below  them  for  a  little  distance  the  wall  was 
perpendicular,  and  then  it  sloped  away  till  it  dropped 
off  again.  Far  down  they  could  see  the  tops  of  trees, 
and  away  at  the  bottom)  of  the  canyon  was  the  little 


The  Deadly  Mountains.  395 

river;  but  nowhere  could  they  see  anything  of  Frank 
Merriwell. 

Directly  beneath  them  Jack  saw  a  spot  where  some 
sliding  body  had  torn  through  vines  and  bushes  which 
grew  along  the  face  of  the  bluff,  but  that  was  all. 

"It's  no  use,  Harry,"  Jack  forced  himself  to  say. 
"He  is  gont" 

"Yes,  gone!"  groaned  Rattleton.  "We'll  never  see 
him  again !  We  may  not  be  able  to  recover  his  body." 

"It  was  fate." 

"Fate !"  shouted  Harry.  "There  is  no  such  thing  as 
fate!  You  can't  make  me  believe  that  it  was  foreor- 
dained that  Frank  Merriwell,  the  whitest  fellow  who 
ever  lived,  should  die  in  such  a  manner!  Don't  talk 
to  me  of  fate!" 

For  a  long  time  Harry  was  very  violent,  and  Jack 
watched  him  closely,  fearing  he  might  take  a  fancy  to   f 
follow  Frank  Merriwell  over  the  precipice. 

Either  Diamond  was  stronger  than  Harry,  or  did 
not  bear  such  a  passionate  love  for  Frank  Merriwell. 
After  a  time  he  was  able  to  induce  Rattleton  to  leave 
the  spot. 

"We  must  go  on  to  the  next  town,  from  which  we 


396  The  Deadly  Mountains. 

may  be  able  to  send  out  men  to  recover  Frank's  body," 
said  Jack.  "Are  you  ready  to  go  on?" 

"I  don't  care,"  came  mechanically  from  the  other 
boy. 

So,  with  Jack's  arm  about  him,  Rattleton  was  led 
back  to  the  spot  where  the  wheels  were  left.  As  he 
stood  looking  at  them,  a  violent  hatred  for  them  seized 
upon  him.  He  shook  his  fist  at  them!,  and  screamed : 

"You — you  are  to  blame!  You  murdered  him! 
If  you  had  never  been  invented,  he  would  not  have 
been  here!  If  I  get  out  of  these  deadly  mountains 
alive,  I'll  never  ride  again!" 

Finally  they  picked  up  the  wheels  and  wearily 
climbed  the  road,  passing  the  fatal  spot  where  Frank 
had  taken  his  desperate  drop,  and  going  on  around  the 
spur. 

Rattleton  was  calmer,  but  there  was  a  fixed  look  of 
horror  on  his  face — a  look  that  made  Jack  shiver. 
Harry  seemed  changed  from  his  old  self  to  quite  a  dif- 
ferent being.  The  face  that  had  ever  seemed  jolly  and 
laughing  was  now  hard  as  stone,  upon  which  lines  of 
grief  and  despair  were  graven. 

They  rode  away,  and  Jack  took  care  to  keep  on  the 


The  Deadly  Mountains.  397 

dangerous  side  of  the  road,  with  Harry  between  him- 
self and  the  bluff  of  rock. 

Before  they  had  gone  a  mile  they  came  upon  a  man 
who  was  stretched  on  his  back  in  the  middle  of  the 
trail.  That  man  was  Budd  Hunk,  the  stage  driver. 

It  seemied  rather  remarkable  that  Hunk  should  be 
there,  for  he  had  left  Buzzardsville  on  the  west-bound 
stage,  and  it  did  not  seem  that  he  was  due  to  return 
so  soon.  Jack  leaped  from  his  wheel  and  bent  over 
the  man. 

"He  is  drunk,"  Diamond  decided.  "He  must  have 
lost  control  of  the  horses,  and  then  fallen  from  the 
stage." 

The  smell  of  liquor  was  on  the  man,  but,  on  closer 
examination,  Diamond  was  horrified  to  find  that  Hunk 
was  dead,  his  neck  having  been  broken  by  the  fall  from 
the  stage. 

"Here  is  a  temperance  lecture!"  Jack  exclaimed. 
"The  man  has  passed  in  his  chips.  And  his  death  was 
caused  by  the  fall,  while  the  fall  was  caused  by  drunk- 
enness." 

"I  tell  you  it  is  these  deadly  mountains!"  cried 
Harry.  "I  have  heard  much  about  the  beauty  of  the 


398  The  Deadly  Mountains. 

Rocky  Mountains,  but  I  find  nothing  beautiful  in  them 
They  are  savage  and  awful  and  deadly !" 

After  a  time  it  was  decided  to  draw  the  dead  man 
from  the  trail  and  leave  him  beside  the  rocks.  They 
could  not  carry  him,  and  so  the  best  they  could  do 
would  be  to  send  out  a  party  from  the  next  town  to 
bring  in  his  body. 

This  was  done,  and  they  mounted  their  wheels  and 
rode  onward  again. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

THE    FALL    DOWN    THE    PRECIPICE. 

Fully  realizing  that  to  escape  death  beneath  the  feet 
of  the  horses  and  the  wheels  of  the  coach  meant  almost 
sure  death  at  the  bottom  of  the  canyon,  Frank  Merri- 
well  had  taken  the  plunge. 

There  was  no  time  for  deliberation.  He  was  forced 
to  act  instantly  if  he  hoped  to  avoid  the  horses. 

In  that  moment  of  frightful  peril  he  had  thought  of 
his  friends  who  were  behind,  and  had  shouted  to  warn 
them  of  the  danger  that  was  rushing  down  upon  them. 

Then  over  the  brink  he  plunged. 

As  he  went  over,  Frank  dropped  from  the  saddle 
and  tried  to  catch  hold  of  the  edge  of  the  rocky  wall, 
hoping  to  cling  there  till  the  horses  had  passed  and 
his  friends  could  come  to  his  aid. 

He  missed  the  edge  of  the  ledge  and  then  he  went 
shooting  downward  with  a  suddenness  that  seemed  to 
suck  the  breath  from  his  body. 

He  struck  the  wall  where  it  sloped  outward,  slid 


400        The  Fall  Down  the  Precipice. 

along  swiftly,  all  the  while  trying  to  get  hold  of  some- 
thing. 

Once  his  hands  fastened  on  some  bushes  or  vines, 
and  his  descent  was  checked  for  one  brief  moment. 

Then  the  mass  of  vegetation  parted  from  its  frail 
hold  on  the  earth  that  covered  the  rocks,  and  again 
he  was  sliding  downward. 

He  caught  a  glimpse  of  his  bicycle  as  it  disappeared 
from  view,  and  the  thought  came  to  him  that  he  never 
would  ride  that  wheel  again.  It  would  be  smashed  to 
pieces  far  below. 

If  the  wheel  should  be  smashed,  surely  he  could  ex- 
pect to  fare  no  better.  He  would  not  need  it. 

With  his  heart  in  his  mouth,  Frank  made  another 
desperate  attempt  to  catch  hold  of  something,  any- 
thing that  would  check  his  downward  rush. 

At  the  very  moment  when  he  seemed  on  the  point  of 
taking  the  last  fatal  plunge,  he  succeeded  in  fastening 
his  fingers  in  a  crevice  of  the  rocks,  and  there  he  clung, 
where  he  could  look  down  into  the  depths  of  the  can- 
yon. 

Away  below  him  lay  a  mass  of  bowlders.     To  fall 


The  Fall  Down  the  Precipice.        401 

on  them  meant  death  swift  and  sure,  and  there  seemed 
no  way  of  avoiding  it. 

A  little  on  one  side  were  some  scrub  trees,  but  how 
was  he  to  reach  them?  Already  his  torn  and  bleed- 
ing- fingers  were  relaxing,  and  he  must  go  shooting 
downward  once  more  before  many  seconds  passed. 

With  a  strength  and  energy  born  of  despair,  Frank 
worked  himself  to  the  right,  clinging  to  the  face  of 
the  precipice  in  a  most  marvelous  manner. 

A  witness  of  that  feat  must  have  been  overwhelmed 
with  astonishment  by  the  manner  in  which  he  stuck  to 
the  face  of  the  precipice. 

Little  by  little,  inch  by  inch,  he  worked  along.  Now 
his  feet  dangled  over  that  awful  gulf,  and  yet  he  did 
not  give  up. 

He  saw  a  shelf  or  ledge  that  ran  down  along  the 
face  of  the  canyon  wall.  If  he  could  reach  it — what 
then?  Surely  it  was  too  steep  for  him  to  obtain  a  foot- 
hold. 

Then  a  bit  of  rock  broke  away  beneath  his  fingers, 
and  with  a  despairing  gasp,  he  flung  himself  toward 
that  shelf. 


402        The  Fall  Down  the  Precipice. 

He  struck  it,  and  fortunately  did  not  bound  off  into 
space. 

Down  the  incline  shelf  he  slipped,  gaining  momen- 
tum with  each  moment,  and  finding  nothing  to  which 
he  could  fasten  his  fingers. 

Frank  had  seen  the  end  of  the  shelf  below,  and,  al- 
most before  he  could  realize  it,  that  end  was  reached. 

Off  the  ledge  he  shot,  still  wildly  clutching  at  any- 
thing he  could  reach. 

Once  more  some  scrub  bushes  that  were  growing 
from  some  dirt  in  the  face  of  the  wall  enabled  him  to 
check  his  downward  fall  for  a  moment. 

That  moment  was  enough  to  enable  him  to  get  a 

breath — enough  to  give  him  time  to  regain  his  scat-    ; 

• 
tered  wits. 

But  still  the  bottom  of  the  canyon  lay  an  appalling 
distance  below,  and  there  did  not  seem  to  be  one 
chance  in  a  thousand  that  he  would  reach  it  with  the 
breath  of  life  in  his  body. 

The  shelf  had  carried  him  beyond  the  mass  of  ragged 
rocks,  and  now  he  was  dangling  above  the  tops  of 
trees  that  were  growing  away  down  there. 

Crack !  crack ! — the  bushes  gave  way ! 


The  Fall  Down  the  Precipice.        403 

There  had  been  but  the  briefest  warning,  but  that 
warning  he  took  advantage  of,  making  a  swing  toward 
a  thicker  mass  of  bushes  some  distance  below. 

Frank  knew  it  would  not  do  for  his  feet  to  strike 
against  any  obstruction,  as  that  would  be  certain  to 
send  him  whirling  out  from  the  face  of  the  bluff,  where 
there  would  be  nothing  to  break  his  fall. 

He  tried  to  keep  his  feet  away  and  get  another  hold 
with  his  hands. 

Bushes  whipped  him  in  the  face  with  a  sting  as  of  a 
hundred  bees  and  cut  through  his  hands  as  if  they 
would  sever  his  fingers. 

He  did  not  mind  that.  What  if  he  lost  both  his 
hands,  if  he  could  save  his  life ! 

It  was  a  battle  of  despair — a  struggle  against  fate. 

A  mass  of  earth,  torn  out  with  the  roots  of  bushes, 
rattled  down  about  him,  while  pebbles  and  rocks  of 
various  sizes  rained  upon  him. 

Again  and  again  he  caught  and  clung  for  a  moment, 
and  the  thought  came  that,  if  he  could  keep  that  up, 
he  might  reach  the  bottom  with  some  life  in  his  body, 
though  he  must  be  a  torn  and  tattered  wreck. 

But  at  last  he  failed  to  grasp  anything,  he  rolled 


404        The  Fall  Down  the  Precipice. 

over,  and  his  hands  had  been  forced  away  from  the 
face  of  the  wall.  Now  it  must  be  that  he  was  lost. 

Down,  down  he  went.  There  was  a  sudden  stop, 
and  he  felt  himself  suspended  in  the  air,  held  thus  by_ 
some  portion  of  his  clothing,  which  had  caught  on  a 
rocky  projection. 

It  seemed  that  this  had  happened  to  tantalize  him,  if 
anything,  for  he  could  feel  the  clothing  giving,  and 
he  was  sure  he  must  take  another  plunge  in  a  moment. 

It  was  remarkable  that  Frank  was  able  to  keep  his 
wits  about  him  at  all,  but  he  did  so. 

Reaching  backward  over  his  head,  he  felt  for  some- 
thing to  which  he  could  hold,  and  found  a  temporary 
grip  for  his  ringers  in  a  crevice. 

Still  farther  to  the  right  a  small  tree  grew  from  the 
side  of  the  bluff.  If  he  could  reach  it 

"I'll  try !"  came  through  his  teeth. 

Then  he  felt  his  clothing  tear  free  of  the  rock,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  he  placed  a  foot  against  a  projection 
of  the  wall,  and,  with  a  push  into  which  he  put  all  the 
energy  possible,  he  flung  himself  toward  the  tree. 

He  struck  it,  crashed  through  it,  and  was  flung  out- 
ward by  the  springing  boughs. 


The  Fall  Down  the  Precipice.       405 

Over  and  over  in  the  air  whirled  the  boy  as  he  made 
that  last  Hair-lifting  plunge. 

Fortunately  the  spring  of  the  small  tree  had  hurled 
him  far  from  the  face  of  the  precipice  and  directly 
toward  the  top  of  another  tree  some  distance  below. 

Again  the  breath  was  forced  from  his  lips  and  con- 
sciousness seemed  to  desert  him  for  a  moment  during 
his  dizzy  drop.  Then  he  struck  the  second  tree. 

Down  through  the  branches  he  crashed,  being  un- 
able to  grasp  any  of  them,  as  his  strength  seemed  quite 
gone. 

A  stout  bottom  branch  caught  him,  bent,  sprang 
back  and  gave  him  another  fling  away  out  over  the 
frocks. 

Splash ! — he  struck  in  the  stream  of  water. 

Frank  sank  from  view,  and  the  water  closed  over 
his  head. 

Was  that  the  end?  Had  he  found  death  at  last  in 
the  cold  water  of  the  little  river  away  down  there  in 
the  canyon  ? 

No! 

Up  to  the  surface  of  the  water  he  arose,  gasping, 
choking — still  alive! 


406        The  Fall  Down  the  Precipice. 

It  was  a  wonder — a  marvel  never  to  be  explained. 

But  he  was  weak,  and  when  he  tried  to  reach  the 
rocky  shore  he  found  himself  unable  to  swim.  He 
sank  again,  and  again  the  water  closed  over  his  head. 

The  little  river  whirled  on  its  mad  career  through 
the  canyon,  leaping  and  exultant,  scenting  to  taunt  the 
black  precipice  above,  as  if  it  felt  certain  of  the  human 
prey  it  had  secured  after  all  that  mad  drop  from  the 
heights  of  the  winding  road  far  up  the  mountain. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

OUT    OF    THE    DEPTHS. 

Out  from  the  town  of  High  Pine  went  a  party  of 
men  to  secure  the  body  of  the  dead  driver,  whom  Jack 
and  Harry  had  discovered  on  the  trail. 

Rattleton  and  Diamond  were  with  the  men,  and  they 
were  determined  to  do  their  best  to  recover  the  body 
of  Frank  Merriwell.  They  had  engaged  some  of  the 
men  to  assist  them,  and  a  pack-horse  bore  on  its  back  a 
load  of  rope,  with  which  searchers  were  to  be  lowered 
into  the  depths  of  Black  Canyon. 

The  body  of  the  driver  was  found  exactly  as  the 
boys  had  left  it,  and  some  of  the  men  took  charge  of 
it,  while  others  proceeded  on  the  way  to  Black  Canyon. 

Harry  and  Jack  were  gloomy  and  sad,  having  little 
to  say.  As  they  approached  the  point  over  which 
Frank  had  rriade  that  mad  plunge  they  were  astonished 
to  see  a  familiar  figure  sitting  on  a  small  bowlder  be- 
side the  trail. 

"Look!"  cried  Jack,  as   he   clutched  Harry's  arm. 


408  Out  of  the  Depths. 

"Is  it  possible?  Am  I  going  daffy  myself,  or  is 
that " 

"Toots!"  shouted  Rattleton.  "It  is  Toots,  as  sure 
as  fate!" 

The  colored  boy  it  surely  was,  looking  somewhat 
battered  and  tattered,  and  his  bicycle  lay  on  the  ground 
near  him. 

As  he  recognized  Jack  and  Harry  in  the  party, 
Toots  arose  to  his  feet,  waved  his  cap  about  his  head, 
and  yelled : 

"Bress  man  soul !  Heah  yer  is,  chilluns !  An'  heah 
I  is,  too!  Fs  sorter  used  up,  but  dis  boy  am  still  in 
der  ring!  It  done  takes  a  po'erful  heap  ter  kill  a  nig- 
ger!" 

The  colored  boy  was  so  delighted  by  their  appear- 
ance that  he  danced  and  capered,  laughing  and  crow- 
ing. He  embraced  them,  tears  of  joy  running  from 
his  eyes.  When  the  first  paroxysms  of  delight  had 
passed,  he  looked  around  inquiringly,  as  if  he  had 
missed  some  one,  after  which  he  asked : 

"Whar  am  Marser  Frank?  He  sho'ly  oughter  be 
heah." 

Jack  and  Harry  exchanged  glances,  and  the  colored 


Out  of  the  Depths.  409 

boy  was  quick  to  see  a  hidden  meaning  in  their  looks. 
His  alarm  flamed  up  in  a  moment,  and  he  clutched 
Harry's  arm,  crying: 

"What  am  it,  boy— what  am  de  mattah?  Yo'  don* 
mean  teh  tell  me  dat  anyfing  hab  happened  teh  Marser 
Frank?  Don'  yo'  tell  me  dat,  sar." 

"Yes,"  said  Harry,  "something  has  happened  to 
him." 

Toots  fell  back,  his  eyes  glaring,  while  a  grayisH 
paleness  overspread  his  face. 

"What  has  happened?"  he  huskily  whispered.  "Muf- 
fin' ser'us,  I  hope?  If  anyfing  ser'us  has  happened  teh' 
dat  boy,  I's  gwan  ter  be  sorry  dat  alverlanch  didn* 
quarry  me  sebenteen  mile  undah  groun',  'stead  ob  tak- 
in'  me  do'n  the  msount'n  all  safe!  If  Marser  Frank 
am  daid,  I  don't  car'  ter  lib  no  longah  mahself !" 

"I  am  afraid  Frank  is  dead,"  admitted  Harry. 

Then  he  told  the  colored  boy  what  had  happened, 
and  Toots'  anguish  was  pitiful  to  witness.  He  sobbed 
and  moaned,  wringing  his  hands  as  if  his  heart  were 
breaking,  while  tears  gushed  from  his  eyes. 

"Po5  Marser  Frank !"  he  wailed.  "Nebber  wus  an- 
nodder  boy  lek  dat  boy !  Dar  ain't  no  reasum  fo'  livin* 


410  Out  of  the  Depths. 

no  mo'!  All  de  bright  hab  gone  out  ob  de  sunsnine, 
an'  de  singin'  ob  de  birds  won't  be  music  no  mo !  Dis 
am  de  blackes'  day  ob  mah  life!" 

It  was  useless  to  try  to  comfort  him,  and  the  boyf 
gave  up  trying,  for  it  wrung  their  hearts  to  witness 
the  anguish  of  the  simple,  true-souled  black  boy  who 
had  loved  Frank  so  much. 

It  was  not  far  to  the  place  where  Frank  had  taken 
the  frightful  plunge,  and  they  went  forward  again. 
When  the  spot  was  reached,  arrangements  were  made 
for  one  of  the  men  to  be  lowered  into  the  canyon. 

Jack  wanted  to  go  down — he  insisted  on  it.  Harry 
had  no  desire  to  go,  fearing  to  see  what  he  fully  ex- 
pected away  down  there.  The  men  thought  it  was  not 
best  that  Jack  should  go,  but  he  insisted,  and,  as  they 
were  in  the  employ  of  the  two  boys,  they  agreed. 

So,  when  all  arrangements  were  made,  one  end  of 
the  rope  was  securely  knotted  under  Diamond's  arms, 
and  he  was  lowered  over  the  precipice. 

Harry  waited  for  the  result,  talking  with  Toots, 
when  the  colored  boy  could  find  words  between  his 
sobbing  to  say  anything.  In  this  manner  Harry  man- 
aged to  obtain  from  the  colored  boy  a  broken  account 


Out  of  the  Depths.  411 

of  his  marvelous  ride  down  the  mountain  on  a  land- 
slide. By  a  singular  circumstance,  it  had  happened 
that  the  darky  had  not  been  overwhelmed  and  buried 
beneath  the  slide.  As  soon  as  he  could  recover,  Toots 
had  found  his  bicycle,  having  seen  one  of  the  wheels 
protruding  from  the  ground,  and  had  sought  to  follow 
on  after  his  friends. 

While  they  were  talking,  there  came  a  signal  from 
below  for  the  men  to  pull  up  on  the  rope, 

Harry  was  quivering  with  apprehension,  fearing  to 
see  what  he  expected  would  be  drawn  up  from  the  can- 
yon. 

Steadily  the  men  toiled  away,  drawing  up  the  rope. 
At  last  they  drew  something  over  the  edge  of  the 
precipice  to  the  road. 

That  something  was  Frank's  bicycle. 

A  breath  of  relief  escaped  Harry's  lips  when  he  saw 
it.  Then  he  turned  away  again,  huskily  whispering: 

"This  simply  prolongs  the  agony.  If  Jack  found 
the  wheel  so  soon,  it  is  pretty  sure  he  has  succeeded 
in  finding  Frank's  body.  That  will  come  next." 

The  rope  was  lowered.    After  some  delay,  the  signal 


412  Out  of  the  Depths. 

came  for  them  to  draw  up  on  it  once  more,  and  they 
set  about  doing  so. 

"This  time  there  is  something  heavier  than  a  bicycle 
hitched  on  down  there/'  said  one  of  the  men. 

Harry  had  no  doubt;  it  must  be  the  body  of  his 
friend. 

"Easy!"  he  gasped — "be  easy  with  it!  Do  not  let 
it  scrape  on  the  rocks !  It  must  be  torn  and  battered 
enough  now." 

Slowly  and  steadily  the  men  worked.  The  rope  was 
coiled  as  they  drew  it  in.  Two  of  them  were  looking 
over  the  brink,  and  they  uttered  strange  exclamations. 
Finally,  having  cautioned  the  men  who  were  pulling 
at  the  rope  to  go  slow,  they  reached  over  .and  took 
hold  of  something,  which  they  gently  lifted  over  the 
edge. 

Harry  forced  -himself  to  look  at  it,  and  then 

"Bress  de  Lawd!  bress  de  Lawd!"  came  the  wild 
cry  from  Toots. 

The  colored  boy  rushed  forward  and  clasped  in  his 
arms  the  person  who  had  been  drawn  up  from  the 
depths  of  Black  Canyon. 


Out  of  the  Depths.  413 

And  that  person  was  Frank  Merriwell  alive! 


That  night,  in  the  town  of  High  Pine,  Frank  told 
them  the  story  of  his  desperate  drop  and  wonderful 
escape  from  death.  He  told  it  as  well  as  he  could, 
but  to  himself  it  was  something  hazy  and  unreal.  But 
for  his  bruised  body,  his  torn  and  bandaged  hands,  he 
might  have  fancied  it  all  a  weird  and  horrible  phan- 
tasma  of  his  brain. 

To  Frank  it  seemed  that  the  hand  of  Providence  had 
shielded  him  ironi  death  on  the  rocks  at  the  bottom 
of  Black  Canyon.  It  seemed  that  the  onward  rush  of 
the  waters  had  finally  cast  him  upon  the  bank  where 
Jack  found  him  just  recovering  consciousness. 

"The  only  thing  that  troubles  me  now  is  to  know 
what  has  become  of  Bruce  and  Miss  Harding,"  said 
Frank.  "It  is  remarkable  that  you  did  not  find  them 
here,  and  it  is  still  more  remarkable  that  no  one  saw 
them  pass  through  this  town.  I  am  worried  about 
them.  If  that  girl  really  is  crazy " 

"Hark !"  cried  Jack,  springing  to  his  feet.     "Some- 


414  Out  of  the  Depths. 

body  is  doing  some  shooting,  and  they  are  coming 
this  way!" 

They  rushed  out,  just  as  two  horses  dashed  up  to 
the  front  of  the  building  and  stopped.  Down  from 
one  of  the  horses  sprang  a  familiar  figure,  and,  a  sec- 
ond later,  Browning  lifted  Miss  Harding  from  the 
other  horse,  and  bore  her  into  the  building. 

Another  young  man,  mounted  on  a  third  horse,  had 
Swung  about  a  short  distance  away,  and,  with  a 
revolver  in  either  hand,  was  shooting  into  the  gather- 
ing darkness  toward  some  pursuers.  It  was  a  pistol 
'duel,  but  it  was  very  brief,  for  one  of  the  pursuers  was 
seen  to  tumble  headlong  from  his  horse,  while  yet  an- 
other sank  forward  and  clasped  his  animal  around  the 
neck  in  a  manner  that  indicated  he  was  wounded. 

Then,  unable  to  face  that  fire,  the  pursuers  turned 
and  beat  a  hasty  retreat. 

As  soon  as  he  saw  this,  the  young  man  who  had 
'done  the  shooting  sprang  down  from  his  horse,  crying : 

"My  sister — where  is  she?  Is  she  harmed?  If 
those  dogs  have  touched  her  with  one  of  their  bullets, 
I'll  not  rest  till  they  are  all  hanged !" 

"His  sister?"  cried  Diamond.     "Is  it  Jutland?" 


Out  of  the  Depths.  415 

"Not  much!"  exclaimed  Frank.  "It's  quite  a  dif- 
ferent fellow." 

Then  they  followed  the  young  man  into  the  building, 
where  Bruce  was  found,  doing  his  best  to  calm  Mabel 
Harding,  who  was  rather  hysterical. 

As  soon  as  the  girl  saw  the  youthful  stranger,  she 
leaped  to  her  feet,  rushed  to  him,  clasped  him  about  the 
neck,  crying: 

"Paul— Paul,  my  dear  brother!" 

"Mabel,  you  are  not  harmed — those  dogs  did  not 
touch  you  with  their  lead?" 

"No,  no !    I  feared  for  you  alone." 

"I  am]  all  right,  but  I  fancy  I  have  given  at  least  one 
of  them  his  just  deserts." 

Frank  found  Browning  from  whom  He  demanded 
an  explanation  of  this  most  bewildering  affair. 

"Where  have  you  been,  Bruce?"  he  demanded. 
"And  where  did  you  run  across  this  new  brother  of 
Miss  Harding." 

"He  is  not  a  'new'  brother,"  declared  the  big  col- 
lege lad.  "He  is  her  real  brother.  Jutland  was  an  im- 
postor, as  she  claimed." 

Then  Bruce  hurriedly  made  an  explanation.    After 


4i 6  Out  of  the  Depths. 

passing  Poker  Notch,  at  which  place  the  girl  had  re- 
fused to  stop,  fearing  they  would  be  pursued  and  over- 
taken, they  met  a  mounted  man  on  the  road.  The  man 
spoke  to  them,  and,  in  the  darkness,  Mabel  recognized 
the  voice  of  her  brother.  It  was  a  wonderful  meeting, 
and  when  P,aul  Harding  had  heard  her  story  he  in- 
sisted on  turning  back  to  Buzzardsville  at  once.  This 
Bruce  was  willing  to  do,  as  he  expected  to  find  his 
friends  there,  or  meet  them  on  the  road.  And  when 
they  passed  back  through  Poker  Notch,  the  boys  were 
already  there,  a  fact  which  Browning  never  dreamed. 

Paul  Harding  told  how  Joe  Jutland  had  lured  him 
into  the  mountains  and  tried  to  kill  him,  after  robbing 
him,  by  flinging  him  into  an  abandoned  shaft.  It  had 
not  killed  him,  and  he  had  succeeded  in  dragging  him- 
self from  the  shaft.  How  he  reached  a  small  mining 
camp  was  more  than  he  could  tell ;  but  he  did  so.  There 
he  was  nursed  in  a  rude  way  by  an  old  miner,  and  he 
recovered.  As  soon  as  he  was  able  to  do  so,  he  started 
for  Buzzardsville,  with  the  intention  of  squaring  his 
account  with  Jutland.  On  the  road  he  met  Browning 
and  Mabel. 

When  Paul  -had  heard  Mabel's  story,  he  was  more 


Out  of  the  Depths.  417 

than  ever  determined  to  visit  retribution  on  Joe  Jut- 
land. 

Back  to  Buzzardsville  they  went.  In  that  town  an 
encounter  between  Harding  and  Jutland  took  place, 
and  Harding  dropped  Jutland  with  a  bullet. 

Jutland,  who  was  known  in  Buzzardsville  as  Paul 
Harding,  having  seen  fit  to  call  himself  that  had  some 
friends  of  the  Handsome  Bob  order,  and  so  it  came 
about  that  the  real  Paul  Harding  was  forced  to  take 
to  flight,  with  his  sister  and  Browning,  after  the  shoot- 
ing. 

They  were  pursued  into  High  Pine,  where  Hard- 
ing made  a  stand,  causing  one  of  the  pursuers  to  bite 
the  dust  and  the  others  to  retreat. 

"Well,"  said  Frank,  when  he  had  listened  to  Brown- 
ing's hurried  story,  "all  this  is  very  remarkable  and 
astonishing;  but  I  rather  fancy  we'll  be  able  to  tell  you 
something  quite  as  astonishing." 

Some  of  the  men  of  High  Pine  went  out  and  brought 
in  the  fellow  who  had  been  shot  from  his  horse. 

It  proved  to  be  Handsome  Bob,  and  the  ruffian  was 
quite  dead. 

"He  never  will  be  missed,"  declared  a  citizen  of 


418  Out  of  the  Depths, 

High  Pine.  "He  wuz  one  o'  ther  wust  p'izen  skunks 
what  ever  lived,  an'  thar  ain't  nobody  goin'  ter  make 
much  fuss  over  his  death.  I  ruther  reckon  ther  coroner 
will  say  as  how  it  came  from  accidental  shootin',  ther 
shooter  bein'  unknown." 

And  that  was  exactly  the  verdict  the  coroner  ren- 
dered. 

The  boys  remained  in  High  Pine  three  days,  long 
enough  for  Frank  to  recover  in  a  measure  from  the 
injuries  he  sustained  in  his  fall  into  Black  Canyon- 
long  enough  for  Bruce  Browning  to  make  a  warm 
friend  of  Mabel  Harding,  which  he  did. 

Browning's  wheel  was  sent  over  from  Buzzardsville, 
and  with  it  word  came  that  Joe  Jutland,  although  seri- 
ously wounded,  would  recover. 

"Well,  I  am  glad  of  that,"  confessed  Paul  Harding. 
"For  all  of  what  he  has  done  to  me,  I  do  not  care  to 
have  his  blood  on  my  hands.  I  am  calmer  now  than 
I  was  when  I  did  the  shooting." 

Frank  Merriwell's  wheel  had  struck  in  the  top  of  a 
tree  when  it  fell  into  Black  Canyon,  and,  although 
it  was  injured  somewhat,  the  boys  were  able  to  put 


Out  of  the  Depths.  419 

it  into  shape  so  that  it  could  be  ridden  to  some  large 
city  where  Merriwell  could  obtain  another  bicycle. 

"Land  ob  watermillions !"  cried  Toots.  "I  dunno's 
it's  pawsible  fo'  anyfing  teh  knock  out  dis  gang.  Ebry 
time  we  git  frowed  down,  we  lights  right  onter  ouah 
feet,  chilluns — 'deed  we  does.  But  I's  gwan  teh  be  a 
mighty  happy  nigger  when  we  git  out  ob  dis  yar 
country,  an*  gits  back  whar  cibilized  pussons  lib — yes, 
sari" 

THF   END. 


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DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(2) 


BOYS  OF  LIBERTY  LIBRARY 

NEW  SERIES  of  splendid  tales  of  the  wonderful  and 
stirring  adventures  of  boys  who  fought  in  The  Revolu- 
tionary War,  The  French  and  Indian  Wars,  and  Naval 
Battles  of  1812. 
The  stories  are  written  in  an  intensely  interesting  style,  and  no 

boy  can  read  them  without  being  aroused  to  the  highest  pitch  of 

patriotic  enthusiasm. 

We  give  herewith  a  list  of  titles  now  ready.     Read  the  first  and 

you  will  want  to  read  all  the  others.     I2mo.     Cloth,  handsomely 

bound. 

PAUL  REVERE.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  FIRST  SHOT  FOR  LIBERTY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FOOLING  THE  ENEMY.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

INTO  THE  JAWS  OF  DEATH.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  HERO  OF  TICONDEROGA.     By  John  De  Morgan. 

ON  TO  QUEBEC.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

FIGHTING  HAL.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

MARION  AND  HIS  MEN.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  AMBASSADOR.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  YOUNG  GUARDSMAN.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  LIVELY  BEE.    By  John  De  Morga*. 

THE  TORY  PLOT.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

IN  BUFF  AND  BLUE.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

WASHINGTON'S  YOUNG  SPY.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

UNDER  GREENE'S  BANNER.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

FOR  FREEDOM'S  CAUSE.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAPTAIN  OF  THE  MINUTE  MEN.    By  Harrie  Irving  Hancock. 

THE  QUAKER  SPY.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

FIGHTING  FOR  FREEDOM.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

BY  ORDER  OF  THE  COLONEL.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

A  CALL  TO  DUTY.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

IN  GLORY'S  VAN.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

THE  TRADER'S  CAPTIVE.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

THE  YOUNG  PATRIOT.    By  Lieut.  Lounsberry. 

"  OLD  PUT  "  THE  PATRIOT.    By  Frederick  A.  Ober. 

THE  LEAGUE  OF  FIVE.    By  Commander  Post. 

THE  KING'S  MESSENGER.    By  Capt.  Frank  Ralph. 

DASHING  PAUL  JONES.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

FROM  MIDSHIPMAN  TO  COMMODORE.    By  Frank  Sheridjm. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  ESSEX.    By  Frank  Sheridan. 

LAND  HERO  OF  1812.    By  C.  C.  Hotchkist. 

FOLLOWING  MAD  ANTHONY.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

THE  YOUNG  CAPTAINS.    By  T.  C.  Harbaugh. 

CAMPAIGNING  WITH  BRADDOCK.    By  William  Murray  Graydonu 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(3) 


THE  ROB  RANGER  SERIES 

By  LIEUT.  LIONEL  LOUNSBERRY 

A  capital  series  showing  what  can  be  accomplished  by  a  boy  of  ability  and  courage. 
Rob  is  a  hero  whose  example  of  courage,  honesty  and  manliness  can  be  followed  with 
profit.  Rob's  horse,  Silent  Sam,  and  his  dog  Trumps,  play  an  important  part  in  the 
series,  and  cannot  fail  to  win  admiration  and  affection.  No  better  stories  for  bright 
healthy  boys  could  well  be  imagined. 

ROB   RANGER'S   MINE,  or  THE  BOY  WHO   GOT  THERE.     By  Lieut. 

Lionel  Lounsberry. 
ROB  RANGER   THE  YOUNG   RANCHMAN,  or  GOING   IT  ALONE   AT 

LOST  RIVER.     By  Lieut.  Lionel  Lounsberry. 
ROB  RANGER'S  COWBOY  DAYS,  or  THE  YOUNG  HUNTER  OF  THE 

BIG  HORN.     By  Lieut.  Lionel  Lounsberry. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

THE  CIRCUS  SERIES 

STANLEY  NORRIS         BY       VICTOR  ST.  CLAIR 

Where  is  there  a  boy  who  does  not  love  a  circus  and  who  does  not  also  love  to  take 
a  p«ep  "  behind  the  scenes  "  of  the  great  white  canvas  ?  There  are  adventures  galore, 
enough  to  satisfy  any  healthy  youngster. 

PHIL    THE    SHOWMAN,    or    LIFE    IN    THE    SAWDUST    RING.      By 

Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  RIVALS,  or  UPS  AND  DOWNS  OF  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG   SHOWMAN'S    PLUCK,   or   AN   UNKNOWN    RIDER   IN   THE 

RING.    By  Stanley  Norris. 
YOUNG  SHOWMAN'S  TRIUMPH,  or  A  GRAND  TOUR  ON  THE  ROAD. 

By  Stanley  Norris. 
ZIG-ZAG,  THE   BOY  CONJURER,  or  LIFE  ON  AND  OFF  THE  STAGE. 

By  Victor  St.  Clair. 
ZIP,  THE  ACROBAT,  or  THE  OLD  SHOWMAN'S  SECRET.    By  Victor 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

THE  MATTHEW  WHITE  SERIES 

These  books  are  full  of  good,  clean  adventure,  thrilling  enough  to  please  the  full- 
blooded  wide-awake  boy,  yet  containing  nothing  to  which  there  can  be  any  objection 
from  those  who  are  careful  as  to  the  kind  of  books  they  put  into  the  hands  of  the  young. 

ADVENTURES  OF  A  YOUNG  ATHLETE.— A  itorv  of  how  a  boy  saved  his 

father's  name  and  fortune. 

ERIC  DANE. — Interesting  experiences  of  a,  boy  of  means. 
GUY  HAMMERSLEY.— How  an  energetic  boy  cleared  his  name. 
MY  MYSTERIOUS   FORTUNE.-An   extremely  interesting  story  of  a  £200,000 

check. 
THE  TOUR  OF  A  PRIVATE  CAR.— Interesting  experiences  of  a  young  private 

secretary. 
THE  YOUNG  EDITOR.— Experiences  of  a  bright  boy  editing  a  weekly  paper. 

Price,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price  by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(4) 


The  Famous  Adventure  Series 

An  ideal  series  of  books  for  boys  of  all  ages.  The  stories 
are  of  the  bright  and  sparkling  kind,  full  of  adventures  on 
land  and  sea  and  not  over-burdened  with  lengthy  descriptions ; 
in  fact,  just  the  sort  that  must  appeal  to  every  healthy  boy 
who  is  fond  of  thrilling  exploits  and  deeds  of  heroism. 

The  names  of  the  authors  give  sufficient  guarantee  to  their 
merits.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned  Henry  Harrison 
Lewis,  who  is  a  graduate  of  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis, 
and  has  written  a  great  many  books  for  boys. 

A  VOYAGE  TO  THE  GOLD  COAST.    By  Frank 
H.  Converse. 

An  adventurous  trip  of  New  England  boys  to  Africa. 

CAMP  IN  THE  SNOW.    By  Wm.  Murray  Graydon. 

Boys'  winter  camp  life  in  northern  New  England. 

CENTREBOARD  JIM.     By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

The  secret  of  Sargasso  Sea. 

FROM  LAKE  TO  WILDERNESS.    By  Wm.  Murray 
Graydon. 

Adventures  around  the  northern  lakes. 

HOW  HE  WON.     By  Brooks  McCormick. 

Triumphs  of  a  plucky  boy  afloat  and  ashore. 

IN   SEARCH   OF   AN    UNKNOWN   RACE.     By 
Frank  H.  Converse. 

A  thrilling  story  of  exploration  in  Brazil. 

KING  OF  THE  ISLAND.    By  Henry  Harrison  Lewis. 

Strange  adventures  on  a  South  Sea  Island. 

TOM  HAVEN  WITH  THE  WHITE  SQUADRON. 
By  Lieut.  James  K.  Orion. 

The  adventures  of  a  young  inventor  of  a  submarine  boat. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  5O  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

(5) 


THE  ANNAPOLIS  SERIES 

By  ENSIGN  CLARKE  FITCH,  U.  S.  N. 

A  graduate  of  the  U.  S.  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis,  and 
thoroughly  familiar  with  all  naval  matters  Mr.  Fitch,  has 
devoted  himself  to  literature,  and  has  written  a  series  of 
books  for  boys  that  every  young  American  should  read.  His 
stories  are  full  of  interesting  information  about  the  navy, 
training  ships,  etc. 

BOUND  FOR  ANNAPOLIS,  or  The  Trials  of  a  Sailor  Boy. 
CLIP,  THE  NAVAL  CADET,  or  Exciting  Days  at  Annapolis. 

THE  CRUISE  OF  THE  TRAINING  SHIP,  or  Clif  Faraday's 
Pluck. 

FROM  PORT  TO  PORT,  or  Clif  Faraday  in  Many  Waters. 
A  STRANGE  CRUISE,  or  Clif  Faraday's  Yacht  Chase. 

Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  75  cents  per  volume 

THE  WEST  POINT  SERIES 

By  LIEUT.  FREDERICK  GARRISON,  U.  S.  A. 

Every  American  boy  takes  a  keen  interest  in  the  affairs  of 
West  Point.  No  more  capable  writer  on  this  popular  subject 
could  be  found  than  Lieut.  Garrison,  who  vividly  describes 
the  life,  adventures  and  unique  incidents  that  have  occurred 
in  that  great  institution — in  these  famous  West  Point  stories. 

OFF  FOR  WEST  POINT,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Struggle. 
A  CADET'S  HONOR,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Heroism. 
ON  GUARD,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Celebration. 

THE  WEST  POINT  TREASURE,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Strange 
Find. 

THE  WEST  POINT  RIVALS,  or  Mark  Mallory's  Strategem. 
Illustrated,  cloth  binding,  75  cents  per  volume 

For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  postpaid,  on  receipt  of  price 
by  the  publisher 

DAVID  McKAY,  Philadelphia 

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